A Knife to the Back
by Rigato Caravel
Summary: Cartman's mother has left him alone, and her son has turned to her old profession. Will Kyle save Cartman, or will he save himself? KyCart
1. Broken Glass

All South Park characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

Warning: This does get pretty explicit down the line, but most of all it is about love, and not sex, though that will come later. Pairings: KyCart

Glass smashed somewhere in the house.

Kyle Broflovski shot up in bed, green eyes open, adrenaline shooting into his system like someone had stabbed him in the gut. For a second he froze, his skinny arms supporting his 110 pound frame, red curls dangling in front of his vision. His ears were listening for any other sounds…anything. Perhaps a shout, another smash. Something to assure him that what he had heard was real. His ears caught the slight sound of the stairwell groaning under the weight of someone's foot and his heart began to beat faster. He felt frozen to the bed, like a deer caught in headlights and waiting for the final impact of a truck. _What the fuck was that?_

Another groan from his complaining staircase.

_Did someone break our window? _Kyle swallowed and commanded his body to move. He shifted achingly slow from his bed, settling his feet on the floor and pushing back the covers. His heart thumped in his ears and nearly covered the sound of his breathing. Cold air hit his body and horripilations sprang from his skin, the cold invading even the boxers he wore to bed. He nervously brushed his springy red hair back from his forehead, only to have the curls teasingly bounce back. The footsteps had stopped, as if the intruder was in the same posture Kyle had been but a moment ago, and then receded down the stairs. Kyle ran to the door, heart in his throat, and ripped it open. His eyes darted around the dark staircase, then his parent's hallway to his left. No one was there, and from what he could see of the living room down the stairs, it was unoccupied.

He heard the door open and he ran for the stairs, then he felt a twinge in his ankle, his leg giving way, and his body meeting the stairs with the agonizing slow fall of someone realizing a horrible mistake. Pain shot through his body and he tumbled down the stairs, the pain in his ankle only intensifying to a white hot heat running through his calf and foot. He cried out, tears filling up his eyes as he hit the carpet at the base of his staircase. He forced himself to look up, blinking stinging salt water out of his green orbs and trying to make out a figure. A darkened man, an open door, and a blast of cold hit him. The figure paused for but a second, then the door slammed and Kyle was left alone in the blackness.

He had no idea how long it was before light pierced his eyelids and forced them open with blinding needles. "Bubbalah what happened?!" the frantic, nasal voice of his mother met his ears. "Oh my god…Gerald! We've been robbed!" she shrieked.

Kyle winced and buried his face in the carpet. His ankle felt at least six times its normal size. The pain was dull now, splintering up through his entire leg like small imps were driving needles into his skeleton. He looked down at it. It was swollen, near purple. He tried to move it and cried out in pain, his fingers clutching the carpet while his ears desperately tried to block out the sounds of his mother crying about their belongings.

"Kyle? Are you ok? Look at your ankle! Don't worry I called the police and asked them to bring an ambulance…" he felt his father kneel next to him on the carpet and gently touch his ankle. Kyle screamed in pain and Gerald flinched. "Don't worry Kyle, we're getting help." He reassured him with a hand on his side. "Just don't move."

_Don't move? Why the hell hadn't I thought of that before? _ Kyle thought acidly, glaring with his eyes squeezed shut. _Why did this have to happen to me of all people? Why doesn't Cartman get robbed…his house has all the expensive stuff because of his fucking mom._ He lifted his head and looked around the room, but the rest of his body felt immobile. His Okama Gamesphere...their television…it was gone. He shifted slightly, his joints complaining after being forced to lie still on a carpet all night. Two of his windows were broken, one by the door and the other a ways down the wall. He'd never heard them come in the house…only when they were about to leave. From his mom's babbling, he could decipher that her good china had been stolen as well.

He sighed heavily, forcing his temper down. There was nothing he could have done. What had he been thinking? If that man had been armed he could be sitting here with a lot worse than a broken ankle. He caught his mom moving across his vision and Ike slowly coming down the stairs. "Dude what's up with your ankle?" he asked, rubbing his eyes.

_Of course my brother would care more about my ankle than my fucking mother._ Kyle added to his bitter thoughts. _She's more worried about her dishes. _He let his ten year old brother help him limp to the couch and ice his ankle.


	2. Vereitelung

Hey, thanks to Rut Lance- Crystal Fairy for the review! Don't worry, Kyle's not going to be without help for too much longer! ~wink~

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

"Kyle? What happened to your ankle?" Stan asked when he saw Kyle awkwardly walk into the classroom, aided by two crutches. He had his backpack over one shoulder, a stubborn denial of help. When Kyle finally collapsed into his seat and laid his crutches against the side of the desk, all Stan could see was relief.

"Stupid jew-rat probably tripped counting a pile of money in his house. I swear every time you drop so much as a quarter they snatch- AY! Kenneh don't hit meh!"

Kyle lifted his head to glare into the soft brown eyes of his adversary…Eric Theodore Cartman. He felt a bit ingratiated towards Kenny for leaning over and slapping him upside the head for the anti-Semitic comment. Mr. Garrison was too tired of their fighting to do much about it these days, especially when it came to the small tank sitting at the front of the class. "Phude, mhat mappened mo you?" Kenny asked in concern. The rather scrawny blonde was still overtaken by his orange parka, though he'd obviously exchanged his childhood coat for a much larger one in high school. He was sitting next to Cartman, who was rubbing his large head and growling under his breath about poor people.

Kyle sighed. He'd been expecting a slough of questions when he came into school the next day, he just hadn't thought it would be this bad. "I fell down the stairs. Our house got broken into the other night." He said. "At least Mr. Garrison is letting me turn in all my school work on a week grace period so my grades don't go down. If I lose my A in this class because of what happened…my mom's never going to let me hear the end of it." He was speaking more to the desk than his three friends. Two friends…Cartman wasn't his friend.

"Hah! Someone figured out where your bitch mom is keeping all her Jew-money, huh?" Cartman snickered. The other three shot him angry looks. "Not my fault she didn't hide it better!" Cartman said defensively.

"Dude…he's got a broken leg. Give him a fucking break." Stan snapped.

"Pheah." Kenny added.

"Eric, Kenny, Stan….would you at least TRY and pay attention to what's going on so I don't have to send you to the school counselor?" Mr. Garrison sighed from the front of the class, rubbing a hand over his face. "Now open your books to chapter five of Mein Kampf and let's try and figure out this together."

Oh god. He'd forgotten what book they were reading. Trust Cartman to be the first one with his hand up when Mr. Garrison was taking suggestions for their final book. Racist asshole! He angrily ripped the thick black book out of his backpack and flipped it open to chapter five. He wasn't surprised to see a small crumpled ball skitter across his desk. At first he thought it was Cartman gloating about the reading, but the writing was Stan's.

_Hey, least it happened on a Thursday, right? Talk to me behind the school at lunch, k? –Stan_

Kyle grabbed his pencil and scribbled something back.

_Sure._

He recrumpled the paper into a neat little ball, careful not to arouse Mr. Garrison's suspicions, and tossed it toward Stan.

"Now children I'm going to give you a project. Each one of you is going to take a chapter out of it and tell me exactly what he was trying to say. Stan and Kenny, you're together. Bebe and Wendy, you too….Butters and Clyde-"

Kyle tuned out Mr. Garrison for a moment, laying his head down on his desk. He groaned inwardly. A project, on top of everything else that had been going on at home? His mom had been hysterical about the loss of their belongings, and a broken ankle certainly didn't excuse him from doing any of his schoolwork. Worse, it meant more pressure on him to get it done. To live up to his little brother's intelligence, which his mom had consistently prized more than his. He got good grades at everything, and for what? A clipped praise and then more pressure.

"-and Kyle, you get to work with Eric."

", I'm not working with the Jew. He's crippled, and I don't want to have to drag his handicapped ass all over the skewl. I think we should all just face the facts and put poor Kyle out of his misery."

Kyle lifted his head, dragging his brain out of its self-deprecating thoughts to tune into Eric's surprisingly calm voice. No…no no no no. He was working with Cartman, on one of the most racist books of the last hundred years. He narrowed his eyes. "Shut the fuck up fatass! I don't want to read this racist piece of shit, least of all with YOU!" he snapped. He was Cartman's partner? This was just going to get worse and worse.

"I'm not fat! And it's not my fault you don't appreciate good literature, Kahl."

"Mein Kampf is not good literature! You're just trying to find another way to rip on my people!" Kyle could feel himself losing his temper.

"You two can just deal with it." Garrison growled at the both of them. "This project is due in a week, and then we're going to start focusing on the final project. Now get out of here, I don't want to see you until Monday."

Kyle sighed and shut his book. Never mind the fact that Garrison was letting them out ten minutes early. He might as well just stay after and start on his homework. Besides, it wasn't like he could compete with the stampede making for the door with his leg. He'd get trampled. He had just set his math book on the table when he noticed a certain, familiar blemish in his field of vision. Cartman hadn't moved from his chair, and was instead twisted around and looking at him. He wasn't going to get any work done like this.

"Cartman…" he started in an exasperated tone.

"Don't start with me Jew. I'm stuck with you on this project, which means YOU and I need to get a head start on it so we don't have to look at each other that long." Cartman sneered, folding his arms across his broad chest. He'd lost quite a bit of weight during middle school…probably because he was sick of being called fat all the time. He still had a bit of padding around his middle and in his cheeks and face, but it was hard envisioning Cartman as thin as Kenny.

"Like you're going to do any work anyway, fatass. You're just going to sit there and let me do all the work." Kyle said angrily.

"I already read the book, Kahl." Cartman smirked.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm out of here. We can do something about it tomorrow…I really don't feel like doing anything today." He said, sliding his books into his backpack and struggling out of the chair. He hated the way Cartman's eyes followed him as he awkwardly hopped about, getting his backpack on one shoulder and grabbing his crutches, dangerously off-balance.

"I didn't expect your lazy Jew ass to want to read it." Cartman dropped something on his desk. A well thumbed-through copy of Mein Kampf. The spine was broken, the pages wore the scars of dog-earing and Kyle could see several highlighted passages winking at him through the pages. "I don't want your copy, I've got my own! And I'm burning it when I'm done!" Kyle snapped as he turned to limp out of the classroom.

"You know, if you had someone carrying that backpack you wouldn't risk falling over again, kike."

"Shut the hell up Cartman!" Kyle eased out of the doorway and then slammed it on Cartman's smirking face.

Wait…did he just offer to help him?


	3. Pills and Stones May Break My Bones

This chapter's going to be from Cartman's POV. Kyle thinks he's got a bad home life? He doesn't know anything yet. Oh, and I am searching for a beta reader to help me out on this thing, because I'm writing this almost completely off the top of my head. Thanks for the favourites guys! It means a lot to me! –Rig

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

Eric Theodore Cartman watched Kyle struggle to pick up his full backpack and swing it across his shoulder. Stupid Jew…he had a broken leg for Christ's sake, and he didn't take any of the offers by Stan or Butters to help him. He might as well have had 'Fuck Off' stamped on his forehead.

Cartman leaned back in his chair in the empty classroom once Mr. Garrison had left with a snarky comment about not messing up his room. He hissed and leant forward again quickly when a sharp pain in his back reminded him why he'd had his head on his folded arms all day. God dammit. He stood up as the bell rang for lunch, easily picking his own backpack up. It was never really filled with school shit anyway…more likely books of his own choosing. He smirked at that. He'd whined for weeks to Mr. Garrison to have them do this book, and the old man had caved in exactly according to plan.

He opened the door and walked down the hallway, where most of it had emptied. Children were on the great stampede for lunch, and had left a straggler. Kyle. Cartman watched him kick his backpack into his locker and slam it shut with his good leg, temporarily balancing himself on the crutches alone. The temptation to go and knock him over swelled, but Cartman shoved it down twice as quickly. It would be more fun to watch.

Come to think of it…his eyes were nowhere near Kyle's face.

He yanked his vision up from the Jew-rat's rear up to his face, only to meet a pair of fiery green eyes. He coloured slightly and cleared his throat, walking up to Kyle. His favourite toy's face was giving him a look of warning. Kyle didn't want to be fucked with any more today…good. Cartman loved that mood. He loved to ignore it and watch the consequences.

"Hello Kahl." He grinned.

"Cartman. I'm really, really not in the mood for it today. My leg hurts, and Stan got distracted by Wendy so no one's helping me out…and I really, really am not looking forward to the English project. So Cartman, just leave me alone." Kyle said in a quiet, stern voice that meant he was trying to control his temper. Cartman watched a stray curl of amber hair escape from under his classmate's hat as he spoke.

"Kahl, I'm not sure you understand the seriousness of the situation. The project's due Monday, and it's Friday, which means I can't have your little jew-rat ass hiding from me all weekend just because you're handicapped." Cartman said, sighing and looking at his nails.

Kyle's eyes narrowed and his fists tightened around his crutches…Cartman thought for a second he meant to hit him with them. He could see the delicate jaw clench and his teeth grind against themselves. Clearly pain withered Kyle's temper quickly.

Cartman moved to the other side of Kyle to get access to his own locker. It was only a stroke of good luck that the name Broflovski and Cartman were so close together in the alphabetical locker system. His was above Kyle's locker and one to the left. He opened it and fished around in the mess of Cheezy Poof bags and half-done homework assignments to pull out an Altoads container. He flicked the top of the aluminum case open and fished out a small, round object. He held the pill out to Kyle.

"I can't have you collapsing in the hallways, Jew." He said shortly, closing the case and carefully sliding it back under the mess, closing his locker. He didn't bother to meet Kyle's suspicious glare.

"Drugs, Cartman?"

The Jew's voice had gone up a notch in pitch. Good. It meant he was about to lose his temper.

"Perkaset, Jew." He corrected with a smirk, shifting his backpack on his broad shoulders. "Well, I'm getting lunch and going home, Kahl. I'm expecting you at my house bright and early. We have a book to read."

"I'm not reading Mein Kampf, Cartman! I can afford to tank the grade on this…YOU can't!" Kyle growled. Cartman grinned and waved a finger in Kyle's face.

"Not so fast, you sneaky little jew-rat. I know if you get a bad grade on this it gets reported to your mom via Mr. Garrison's classroom policy…so meet me at my house early Saturday." Cartman turned his back on the angry boy and walked down the hallway. He heard a loud sound of pure exasperation and rage behind him.

Sweet.

_________________

Cartman stiffened when pain shot through his lower half, and his fingers tightened on his mother's pillow. Super. Weak. His brown eyes were tightly shut, and he forced himself to calm down even though his lungs were threatening to scream out obscenities. He buried his face into the pillow, preferring to smell the last few traces of his mother's perfume rather than focus on the pair of hips driving into him from behind. How had Leanne ever put up with this…? He felt like everything from the waist down was on fire.

Another jolt of pain and tears sprang to his eyes. He fought them furiously. He didn't have his mother around to protect him anymore, so he had better just suck it up! He needed money, and taking over his mother's clients were probably a quick if unwise solution to the stack of bills Leanne had left behind.

He choked back a noise and could have slapped himself. The last time he'd cried was when he'd come home from school and found every piece of furniture in the house missing…except for their beds.

"See you next week, kid." A voice said in a calm, self-satisfied tone and Cartman heard the sound of dollar bills hitting the nightstand. He brought himself out of the pained fog of his own thinking and snatched the money, counting it and shoving it under the pillow. The man had already left…good. There was nothing in the house except for a TV and the fridge, and Cartman would hear it if he lifted any of those.

And his friends thought he spent his weekends eating Cheezy Poofs on the couch…it was almost funny. He laid on his side, wincing. This was so gay. He rooted around in the bed and eventually found a towel, cleaning himself up with it. After several minutes of hissing, swearing and pounding the bed, he had wiped away any traces of his visitor. He crumpled the towel up and pitched it into the laundry bin he'd bought last week, smirking when it landed perfectly inside. He was about to thumb through the cash and decide if he had enough for a pizza when the doorbell rang.

Another one, this early on a Saturday? Fucking weak. "Door's open!" he shouted.

"Fatass get down here and open it! It's fucking locked!"

Cartman's heart could have stopped. The Jew was early.


	4. Across the Threshold

Thank you so much for all the helpful and considerate reviews!

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

Kyle blinked when the man pushed past him and walked down the driveway. He frowned. Another one of Ms. Cartman's 'boyfriends' no doubt. He sighed and adjusted his trapper hat, awkwardly walking to the door with his crutches. His ankle was pounding in dull pain. He didn't dare take the Perkaset. The little white pill was still wrapped up in a lunchroom napkin at the bottom of his backpack. Knowing Cartman, it was something that would have him throwing up for days…or worse. Hell, Cartman had been trying to kill him for years, and since that not-so-subtle comment about putting him down he trusted nothing.

He struggled up the two steps to Cartman's door, grunting when his leg refused to drag up the last step. He propped the crutches under his armpits, grabbed the leg and forced it up. The pain was almost unbearable. White hot shards shot up his leg and he choked back a scream. Kyle stuffed his glove into his mouth, screaming against the knitted fabric until the stars faded from the backs of his eyelids. His blood rushed in his ears for a moment, and then the pain died down.

"Cartman!" he shouted, a slight squeak tingeing his voice. He checked the doorknob. Locked. He pounded his fist on the front door, anger welling up in him. The fucking anti-Semitic asshole had asked he be here early, he was here fucking early. It was eight o'clock for Moses' sake…Kyle's mom woke him up at seven no matter what day of the week it was.

"Door's open!" Came the muffled shout from inside.

"Fatass get down here! It's fucking locked!" Kyle shouted back hoarsely, still recovering from having to drag his leg up two steps. His knee worked fine, but the weight of the cast had done a number on the joints in his leg. His knee hurt so badly when he got home from school he had to ice it while he did his homework. "Cartman! It's freezing and my leg hurts! Get down here!" he shouted again.

Silence reigned for a moment. Kyle clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. "Cartman get the fuck down here you lazy, fat, racist asshole! I'm not going home! I spent too long getting here because my mom won't drive me to your house! _Cartman!_"

He took a few deep breaths, then heard the heavy footfalls on Cartman's stairs. "Finally…" Kyle muttered, glaring at the door until it opened. His angry expression practically fell off his face when he saw Eric Cartman standing there, breathing hard like he had to run down the stairs, hair messed up, smelling like a house of ill repute. His shirt was buttoned oddly, his fly was down…wait a minute! He'd actually noticed that?! What the hell was wrong with him?

"Cartman…" Kyle began, wrinkling his nose. Cartman smelled off. Like he'd been running miles…it was a weird, musky odor. "…when was the last time you took a shower?" he asked finally, noticing Cartman's death glare.

"Look Jew, this is mah house. Not yours. Mine. I can bathe whenever the hell I want to." Cartman snapped. He stood aside, raking his hair down with his fingernails as Kyle came in. The boy took in the surroundings. Something was different about this house. The TV was a different, cheaper brand and propped up on an apple crate like the ones they left behind the supermarket. The couch was replaced by a cheap, college dorm room thing that looked as though it had been beat up by all the other couches and left to die. There was no side table next to the couch, no coffee table. There was even a faded square on the wall where the picture of Cartman and his mother at Mount Rushmore had been.

"What's going on?" Kyle turned to face Cartman when the boy shut the door.

"Uh…rats. My mom moved her stuff into storage so it wouldn't get all gross when the exterminators came. Fucking lame. It's just temporary." Cartman said dismissively, but Kyle could see his defensive hackles raising. He always hunched his shoulders slightly and put his head a little farther down on his neck like a cornered dog. "Ahem. So Jew let's go to my room. I can't have you rooting around when my back's turned. I'm going to be counting the silverware later."

Kyle rolled his eyes and nodded at the staircase. "What makes you think I'm in any mood to get up and down those stairs, fatass?" he demanded, folding his arms. Cartman rolled his eyes, mimicking Kyle.

"What the hell do you suggest Jew? There aren't any tables down here and no lamps." He sneered.

"I'm not going up the stairs with this leg Cartman! I don't care if you just want to watch me suffer, reading Mein Kampf is bad enough without you taunting me!" Kyle snapped.

Cartman's eyes narrowed. "Up the stairs, jew-rat."

"No." Kyle dropped his backpack on the floor and turned his back on Cartman, intending to go sit on the couch. He made a small sound of surprise when two thick arms wrapped around his waist and he was slung over Cartman's shoulder like a sack of grain. "_Cartman put me down!" _ Kyle shrieked in outrage, driving his elbow into the back of Cartman's head. The other boy swore loudly.

"Do you want me to fucking drop you, you stupid little kike?!" he shouted back at Kyle, ascending the stairs. Kyle shut his eyes with each jarring step, tightening his fingers in Cartman's red sweater. This was so humiliating…if Leanne saw this what would she think? Her son with his worst enemy over his shoulder, walking calmly up the stairs. Come to think of it…Cartman wasn't breaking a sweat or complaining about his weight at all. All he felt under his fingers and chest was pure muscle. He poked Cartman in the back experimentally. It yielded a little, showing that Cartman really wasn't Hulk Hogan yet. He was still fat, but he hadn't realized before how much it had masked Cartman's strength.

"Stop poking me Jew!" Cartman snapped, and Kyle coloured. This was going to be a long night.


	5. One Hand on the Door

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

"So Hitler grew up in Austria…and he wanted to be a painter? I always thought he just wanted to kill everyone." Kyle said softly. He was seated on the bed, his leg stretched out in front of him. He had to hand it to Cartman; he knew how to pick a bed. He was sunk into it and his leg felt like it was resting on a cloud. No wonder the fatass slept so deeply. He ran his fingers across the coverlet, feeling silk under his fingers…silk, goose down, beyond that was foam.

Wait a minute. What the hell was he doing pawing Cartman's bed? This was Cartman! He didn't want to know what sort of liquids had gotten on here!

"Yeah. I bet you didn't know he wanted to be an architect either." Cartman grunted, nose in his book. "That's Jews for you. They get sand in their vaginas before they actually get to know a person."

Kyle shifted uncomfortably. He was less interested in the book, and more interested in Cartman's room. Nothing was touched here. It looked nearly identical to the one he'd seen when he was eight. The old Terrance and Phillip poster was still on the wall…Clyde Frog resting on a chest in the corner. The Wellington Bear things were gone, but Kyle wasn't surprised he'd hung onto some other things from his childhood. He rubbed the back of his neck. Didn't he say that the house was being cleaned out for extermination? There wasn't any sign of vermin. Clyde Frog wasn't chewed on or anything, the bed was fine. No rats. No rat feces.

What the hell was Cartman trying to pull?

"There aren't any rats here, are there?" Kyle said.

"None other than you Kahl. I told you, the exterminators already came." Cartman growled, his shoulders beginning their hunch.

"So where's your mother?" Kyle pressed, shutting his book.

Cartman froze. His fingers visibly tightened on his copy. Aha. So Kyle had hit a nerve with that last question. "You shut the hell up about my mother, Jew." Cartman snarled, his voice an animalistic growl. Maybe too big of a nerve.

Kyle rubbed his fingers over the book. He knew Cartman never wanted to speak about his mother even at the best of times. But Leanne not hovering over him, not offering them food or at the very least being there when they came home was suspicious. "Look, Cartman, I'm sorry. Let's just work on the project ok? We have a few pages to write about our analysis of his life in Vienna." He said, clearing his throat.

Cartman nodded to the flat screen computer in the corner. "Get typing then." He said shortly, turning a page.

Definitely too big of a nerve. This was a punishment for talking about his mother. Even Kyle was surprised at how well he knew Cartman, even after all these arguments. He knew how to push his buttons…as much as Cartman knew how to push his. Kyle sighed. "I can't, fatass." He said, nodding to his leg with a scowl on his face. With a glare Cartman got up and went to his computer.

Silence stretched out between them like a rubber band. The question was…would it snap and lash out at one of them?

Kyle fidgeted, attempting to read his chapter of Mein Kampf, but it was useless concentrating in Cartman's room. He bit his lip and felt pressure on his groin. "Cartman, where's the bathroom?" he asked, picking up his leg in his skinny arms and slowly dragging it to the floor. He set it down carefully, calmly, making sure none of that pain spidered its way up his leg again. He picked his crutches up from their resting places leaning on Cartman's plush bed, sliding them under his arms.

Cartman tilted his head, one of his chocolate eyes looking back at Kyle. "Downstairs. Upstairs one is in my mom's room…and you're not allowed in there you stinking Jew." He said. Kyle saw he was expecting a fight, and he was glad to give him one.

"I cant get down the god damn stairs!" Kyle snapped.

"It's not my fault." Cartman growled. "I'm not carrying you again."

Kyle glared at him. "Fine." He said stiffly, hobbling out of the room. He was planning to use the one in Mrs. Cartman's room anyway. He wasn't falling down the stairs again, not because of that asshole. Cartman just wanted to see him struggle. He wanted to see him in pain. What a sadistic little shit. Though…he couldn't figure out what was making his worst enemy act like this. Carrying him up the stairs? What had prompted that? When they were young all Cartman would have done was stand at the top of the stairs and mock him. Sure when Cartman had carried him he wasn't the most gentle person in the world, but it was still very un-Cartman-like.

What was with his house as well? Hobbling down the hallway, Kyle didn't see any of Leanne's usual bric-a-brac. No end tables with flowers on them…any pictures on the walls. They'd obviously been taken down by all the lighter coloured little squares on the wall paint. Kyle would have thought they would have been okay to leave up during extermination. He frowned when he reached Leanne's room. About that…there hadn't been a lot of filth in the house, ever. Even when they were young. His occasional visits here since his childhood, rare as they were, always revealed the perfect household with the perfect mother. On the surface, at least, it was just a single mother who had an embarrassing night job and a terror of a child.

Kyle put his hand on Leanne's door, about to put pressure on it when he felt another hand on his own. "Kyle." Cartman's voice was low and dangerous, but Kyle detected something else. Fear? Kyle swallowed thickly. Cartman's skin felt hot on top of his hand, but not unpleasant. Kyle coloured and looked down at his feet.

Cartman's hand lingered for a moment. Kyle heard the other boy swallow, and the hand was gone. "I told you not to go in there." Cartman said shakily. Again, silence. Then Cartman straightened up and folded his arms across his chest. "I guess you can use my bathroom…" he sighed and looked up at the ceiling, refusing to look at Kyle.

"I thought you said the only upstairs bathroom was in your mom's room." Kyle said suspiciously.

"Well maybe I didn't want your dirty Jew paws all over my stuff." Cartman said defensively. "Come on." He turned and walked to a door next to his room, opening it up and gesturing. "Go." He narrowed his eyes.

"Little privacy?" Kyle growled when he lumbered inside and Cartman stood there with the door open. The other boy blushed and slammed the door shut.

Kyle got home late that night. Walking through the snow from Cartman's house had left him practically frozen. His cast felt like someone had carved it out of ice. He closed the door quietly, hearing his family in the dining room. He was trying to be as quiet as humanly possible. "Kyle Broflovski?! Is that you? You're late for dinner! Where were you all day?" his mom screeched from the dining room. Kyle winced and tried to sneak into the dining room without rousing his mother's ire.

"Where were you Kyle?" Mrs. Broflovski demanded.

"I was working on a project for school with my partner. We got it finished but I stayed late…I'm sorry." Kyle said nervously. His mother narrowed her small eyes and looked down her rather large nose at him. She believed him…to a point. But she knew that he was hiding something from her. She sensed it, like a bloodhound sensed a fleeing criminal.

She knew he was on the run.

"You were at the Cartmans' weren't you Kyle? I put a tracer on your cell phone, so don't you dare lie to me. You have school tomorrow and that boy is a bad influence." Ms. Broflovski said sternly.

Kyle felt anger boil up. She'd put a tracer on his cell phone? It was obvious she didn't trust him but did she really need to go that far? Moses she was controlling! "I can't believe you…" he said under his breath, tightening his fingers on the crutches.

"Kyle I don't want you going to that boy's house anymore. Him and his…mother…are not people we want to be associated with. Now go up to your room and finish your homework, then go to bed."

"But what about dinner?" Kyle asked through gritted teeth.

"Do as I say Kyle!"

Kyle growled and turned his back on his mother, putting one crutch on the stairs and slowly, achingly, pulling his cast up each and every stair.


	6. What Love Feels Like

I believe I've found the problem with the complaint that all my chapters are short. I've found out that while my chapters are longer than most, people often put a space between each line of the story. I do that only with dialogue. So, here's hoping this new format works and If anyone has any idea how to better situate this intro so it looks separated from the rest of the story…please PM me. It would help out a lot. Thanks!

Note: A yurt is a sort of hut, often round in shape with a domed top. Yay for copyright dodging.

Rig

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

__

Kyle sighed and put his head in his hands, looking out across the frozen mirror of Stark's Pond.

"Kyle, don't worry about it. Cartman's always been an asshole to you. It's not surprising he worked so hard to get us to read that stupid book. I couldn't even get through a chapter." Stan said, looking over at him. "I don't think he understands it either, I think he just wants to rip on Jews again."

Kyle shrugged noncommittally. He knew after last night that Cartman had thumbed through that book more than any of them. Hell, he understood Social Democracy, a word that half his class couldn't even pronounce. Cartman, Wendy and himself were the only people who seemed to pay attention to that sort of thing. Well…Cartman never paid attention in class.

"Least you got it done right? So you don't have to go over there again." Stan said, breathing into his red mittens to warm his hands.

"No…I just told my mom that. I still have to go over there. We got a little bit done but he was acting so…weird." Kyle said, looking over at Stan. His super best friend mimicked his shrug.

"It's Cartman. He's always weird."

"No, he wasn't Cartman weird. He carried me up the stairs when I said I couldn't get up to his room." Kyle felt his face heating up as he said it. The temperature rose when Stan turned his head and gave him an odd look.

"He _carried_ you, dude?"

"Yeah I know." Kyle said.

"Our fatass carried you up his stairs? He can barely lug a full backpack around." Stan said in disbelief.

"Yeah, I was surprised too. Maybe after so much teasing about being fat he started working out or something." Kyle muttered, adjusting his crutches on the snow bank next to him. Stan looked around at the pond.

"I guess." Stan said, reaching up and pulling off the red poofball hat he'd worn for such a long time. He ruffled up his short black hair, making it stick up at odd angles.

Kyle smirked over at him. "Dude, we don't need two people with crazy hair in the group. Smooth it down." He said playfully. Stan stared at him until Kyle reached over and clawed down the mess on the top of Stan's head.

"You looked like Butters there for a minute." Kyle laughed.

"Oh yeah?" Stan reached over and yanked Kyle's trapper hat off, laughing at the small explosion of red, bouncy curls that fluffed out. Kyle blushed and scrambled for it. "Give that back!" Kyle growled, pawing for the hat.

"Cartman's right, you do have a Jew fro!" Stan shook with mirth, soon laughing too hard to hold the silly green hat aloft. Kyle snatched it and stuffed his hair under it, pulling it down by the flaps back onto his head.

Stan soon recovered from his laughing fit and smiled. "It's good to hang out with you again, Kyle. You've been really quiet at school…I mean, you forgot to meet me after." he said, putting his arm around his best friend and jostling him a bit. Kyle smirked and punched his shoulder.

"Never take my hat again dude." He said.

He had brought Stan out here to tell him about the way Cartman had acted. It was more than just carrying him up the stairs. It was lying about the rats, laying his hand on top of his like that. The way it had made Kyle feel…like he was hot, his blood racing in his veins. His stomach had churned and he hadn't thought to push the other boy away.

"Hey Stan?" he asked finally, looking down at his cast.

Stan smiled over at him, hair still sticking up a bit, that familiar warm smile on his face.

"How do you feel around Wendy? Like, I know the way you feel emotionally. You love her. But what does that feel like?" Kyle asked awkwardly, playing with his hands.

Stan's face lit up. Kyle knew that look. It was the look Stan got every time Wendy so much as shot a smile at him.

"She makes me feel so warm dude. Like someone just turned up a thermostat. My hands get all clammy and…yeah you know about the queasiness. It's like a good feeling, but horrible at the same time because I can't bear to be around her, yet I want to all the time. It's like some form of torture where all you feel is warmth and affection." Stan said, sighing and looking up at the gray sky. "Best feeling in the world, Kyle."

Stan grinned wolfishly and looked at Kyle. "What, you got a girl?" he asked, elbowing his friend. But Kyle had gone silent. It was like Stan had just told him the symptoms to cancer or something…and they perfectly fit the way he felt around Cartman.

Cartman made him feel like his blood was boiling over, and he wanted to hit something or someone constantly whenever the fatass made a comment. His stomach felt sick around him, like he was on the verge of the flu. The hands...dear Moses.

All those years of fighting, tricks, bloody noses and Sig Heils…it couldn't just run down to being attracted to one another? Kyle wasn't gay! Cartman sure as hell wasn't gay.

"Dude?"

Stan's voice brought him back to earth. His best friend was looking at him in concern, his brows furrowed slightly. Kyle grabbed his crutches and slid them under his arms, making sure the rubber ends were firmly planted on the ground before he eased himself up off the snow. "I gotta go Stan. I mean, the project's due Monday and it's Sunday today." He said guiltily.

Stan nodded. "Okay dude. Hey, don't let Cartman get to you, ok?" he smiled. "Ask that girl out. You deserve it. Kenny says chicks love injured men."

Kyle chuckled and readied his crutches. "Thanks Stan. See you." He said, unsteadily walking toward the last house in the world he wanted to be in. His own.

__

Where the hell was that Jew? They had one more day to work on the project! They had only one page of the analysis done and they still needed to figure out how they were going to present it. Cartman glared at the phone on the wall, and then picked it up. No dial tone. He'd forgotten to pay the phone bill this week!

Weak. He slammed it back onto the cradle and paced around his disturbingly empty kitchen. It had slowly been cluttering up with old pizza boxes, hot pocket sleeves and all other manner of cheap food wrappers. The countertops were stained and his sink leaked constantly.

Sure, he had enough money now to fix it but every time he hired one of those filthy Mexicans to come in and make it work again they just screwed it up further. Hiring a real plumber was out of the question. They'd want to know where his mother was, and if he had a client with him at the time…God help them both.

No, he'd need to fix up his house on his own time, with his own two hands.

Cartman glared at the sink and kicked a Pizza Yurt box aside, heading into his grimy living room and sitting on his couch. He was startled to see a few puffs of dust rise up when he plunked his bulk down on it. God dammit.

He needed the Jew up and working on the project. He got up from the couch after a few seconds of staring at his TV, and then yanked his red sweater on. "Fucking kike, making me going to his bitch mom's house and drag his crippled ass into the snow….this is bullcrap." He growled under his breath, snatching his keys out from his pocket.

Cartman locked his house and jammed his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders and walking down the street.

"H-hey Eric!"

He tilted his head up, a sneer crossing his features when he saw the innocent little blond head peeking out from an upstairs window. Leopold Stotch, better known as Butters by his classmates, meekly waved a hand.

"N-now don't you go nowhere! I'm hurryin' right down!" Butters called, and the window was shut before Cartman could protest.

The truth was, Cartman hated seeing Butters now. He couldn't stomach the little fag after seeing his father naked and looming over him every weekend. Course…Mr. Stotch paid well, but that wasn't the point. He didn't feel right around Butters anymore.

He saw the door open and Butters run out. Before Cartman could stop him, Butters had enfolded him in a hug. He was shorter than all the rest of the guys in his class, and his mess of blond hair had grown into a little skater helmet around his head. He looked up with his big blue eyes at Cartman. Eric stared down at him in horror. "Get off me fag!" he pushed Butters off. "What's wrong with you?" he demanded.

Butters chewed his lip and ground his knuckles together. "I-I'm sorry Eric. I just wanted to say hello. I ain't seen you around school much and we don't hang out or nothin'. I just wanted to know if we were…uh…still friends?" he asked.

Cartman folded his arms. He knew he shouldn't be cruel to Butters. The boy was just as messed up as he was. Hell, his father often demanded he cry or even hit him while they were in bed. If the pay wasn't so good he wouldn't be putting up with it. Cartman was probably the only person who knew how dark Butters' home life really was.

"Yeah, whatever Butters. We'll hang out or something." Cartman said impatiently.

"Hooray!" Butters said, smiling hugely.

"BUTTERS!"

The boy cringed at the sound from inside the house. Mr. Stotch slid out the open door and slammed it shut. "What the hell did I tell you about keeping this door-" he choked to a stop when he saw Cartman. "Butters. In the house." Mr. Stotch growled, pointing inside the house.

"See ya Eric. I gotta go." Butters said and ran back to his home. Mr. Stotch slammed the door behind him and marched up to Cartman, grabbing him by the front of his sweater. "What the fuck did I tell you about staying away from my son?" he demanded, his eyes blazing angrily.

Cartman shoved Mr. Stotch away. "He came out of the fucking house, it's not my fault! Keep a leash on him." He growled, narrowing his brown eyes. He saw Mr. Stotch turn and look toward the door of the house, and felt a small twinge of guilt. He had a feeling Butters would be the one suffering under Mr. Stotch's belt tonight.

"Fine. Stay away from this house. What you and I do in your house is never, EVER to come to light here." Mr. Stotch said. "Is that clear?"

Cartman nodded, adjusting his sweater. "Whatever." He snapped at Mr. Stotch's retreating back.

He continued his walk down the street, though he thought he heard a yelp of pain coming from the Stotch residence as he left. Must have been his imagination.

----

Mr. Stotch is an abusive bastard isn't he? And Kyle's finally figuring out why he bickers so much with Cartman. Also, looks like Ms. Cartman's bad teachings are getting passed to the next generation. Will Kyle get a clue? Find out next chapter!

Also, thanks for all the reviews! Couldn't do it without you guys! I honestly didn't expect this thing to have over 300 views in its first week! Go KyCart!


	7. The Next Whiskey Bar

Love the reviews guys. Keep 'em comin'! I love feedback on my work, positive or negative I love it all.

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

___

Kyle couldn't get any work done. He'd sat staring at the white, digital sheet of paper on the powder blue background of Wordbook for an hour.

He knew precious little about Adolf Hitler, much less what he was trying to say in his book. All it seemed like was a bunch of babble about Social Democrats and the Jewish race, his people, were somehow connected to it all. It didn't make sense.

He wound his fingers under his hat, clutching his fiery curls. His trapper hat, upset by the fingers, fell off and hit the carpet. His eyeballs felt like they were going to fall out of his head and start frying on the keyboard.

"Please, God just help me through this stinking paper…Cartman's got his half done and I haven't even started on mine. We still need to get together today…I really need a miracle here." Kyle prayed to the screen. He considered signing into IM to talk to Stan or Kenny (if the poor boy's dial-up allowed it).

No, that wouldn't accomplish anything but get him distracted and then he wouldn't get any work done at all. He laid his fingers on the keyboard, then removed them again. "I can't think of anything." He whispered.

Cartman was stalking in the back of his mind. Gay…he couldn't be gay. He kissed that one homeschooled girl when he was eight, right? Cartman started laughing in the back of his skull.

Eight?! That didn't count! Who was he fooling…when Stan had been drooling over Wendy for years, he had never even kissed someone. He hadn't ever gone on a date other than the ones his mom kept setting up. Those were intolerable.

Come to think of it, the only time he was ever comfortable was around his friends. He was always nervous around women. Even Kenny had pointed out that he treated them like colleagues more than love interests.

Kyle covered his face with his hands. "I can't be gay…I can't be gay." He chanted it like a mantra. Girls never did it for him. Masturbating his mother strictly curbed…Ike was beginning to get the bad end of that lesson. "Jesus Christ." Kyle groaned.

Maybe he was getting too distracted. Had he taken his insulin today? Not getting the shot made him irritable as hell.

"Kyle! One of your little friends is here!"

Kyle shot up in the chair, scrambling for his hat and jamming his mess of curls under it. Good. Talking with Stan more would help clear his head. He yelped and sat down in the chair as soon as he realized he was putting weight on his injured leg.

He hissed and grabbed it, groaning in pain. One hand grabbed his crutches, but he heard footsteps. Through the fog of pain, those footsteps sounded familiar. His ankle throbbed in response and Kyle frowned. Where had he heard those footsteps before?

The door opened.

"Hi Sta-" Kyle choked back his words when he saw Cartman standing there, arms across his barrel chest, eyes on the blank computer screen.

"Still haven't written anything, Kyle? I think this is the first time I've finished a project before you." Cartman said triumphantly.

"Shut up fatass." Kyle responded automatically, settling back in his chair. Was Cartman gay? He banished that thought. Cartman, who constantly ripped on every minority he heard about? It would be a divine stroke of irony if he was gay.

"I'm big boned Kahl." Cartman growled, walking over to Kyle and leaning on the armrest. The chair groaned slightly under the pressure. Kyle was mere inches away from Cartman.

Kyle's nostrils were filled with a scent he realized wasn't unpleasant. Just uniquely Cartman. Musky and strong, only smelling slightly of leftover pizza. Kenny always smelled like alcohol and mold…Stan was just Stan. Old Spice and locker room scent pretty much explained his super best friend.

Cartman's smell was complex. Kyle found himself unconsciously inhaling that scent, trying to analyze it.

"Kyle. Why are you smelling my sweater." It was more a statement than a question. That flat, suspicious tone in Cartman's voice put Kyle on edge.

"I'm not, fatass! Why the hell do I want to smell bad Cheesy Poofs and your mom's perfume?" Kyle snarled.

"I don't know Kyle. Why don't you tell me?" Cartman leaned his face in close to Kyle's. Their noses were almost touching. Kyle's eyes scanned the face looming in front of him. He hadn't realized Cartman had such beautiful eyes. Like chocolate, with little flecks of gold around the rims that almost made them hazel.

"You still haven't written anything. I'll present it Kyle…I know it would be ironic and disgusting to have a Jew read the Fuhrer's work out loud." Cartman said, but his eyes were still locked on Kyle's.

Kyle looked away, clearing his throat and frowning. "Yeah." He said, turning back to the computer screen. Cartman tilted his head up to look at the computer. "Mine left off when he was explaining about his time in Vienna. Seeing the poor people all starving and whoring themselves off while the Jews made money. I think Kenny should be able to relate to that. Poor piece of crap." Cartman smirked.

Kyle sighed and closed his eyes, then opened them and began to type. He was surprised at himself. A few minutes ago he had writer's block, and now that Cartman was here his fingers were flying across the keyboard? The words came to him easily with Cartman there, leaning over the chair, his chest lightly touching the backrest. His lips were so close to his ear he could feel Cartman every time he breathed.

Slow, steady. Cartman's heart wasn't racing like his was. Perhaps he didn't feel the same way…or he had a better way of masking it.

"So why did you come over here? I have a phone…you could have just called me and told me you were going to present it and all I had to write was this two page paper." Kyle said, looking over at Cartman. An unreadable expression passed along Cartman's features.

"I guess I forgot." Cartman said. His voice had lost its soft intimacy and was now a little harder. His tone was growing defensive, like a turtle drawing into its shell.

"Forgot you had a phone? It's in your kitchen, Cartman. Even I know that." Kyle said. "Does your mom even know you're over here?"

There it was. The nerve he struck. Cartman's face contorted and he stood up, glaring. "I told you not to talk about my mother Jew. Just email that to me when you're done." He said shortly.

"No, Cartman." Kyle said, swallowing when Cartman's face turned annoyed.

"Kyle. Email it to me later."

"Cartman just listen to me. How long has it been since you've seen your mom? Is that why you didn't want me going in her room?" Kyle pressed. The next minute, his ears were ringing and his vision blacked out. Pain blossomed from his nose and Cartman retracted his fist. Kyle reflexively brought his hands to his nose.

"You stay the fuck out of my life, Jew!" Cartman screamed in his face, and then all Kyle heard was Cartman's footsteps on the stairs, then a door slamming distantly below.

Kyle slowly pulled his hands away from his face when his vision straightened. They were covered in blood. He felt warmth dripping down his lips and he groped for his crutches.

He needed to get to the bathroom before his mother saw something like this.

_______

Cartman slammed the door to his house shut, angrily throwing his keys across the room. "God _dammit_! Sneaky little Jew!" he roared. He stood there for a minute, breathing, attempting to calm himself down. He looked down at his knuckle and saw a small spatter of blood on it. He had hit the little jew-rat pretty hard. "Sick dude." He mumbled, walking into the kitchen and washing it off.

He needed to eat. That always helped him think. He opened his fridge and sighed at the empty racks. He needed to get Kyle's eyes out of his head. Those piercing green eyes were like a cat's, looking straight through him. Those beautiful little freckles on his nose, the way his curls strayed from under his hat. Kyle was, in a word, beautiful.

Beautiful? What the hell was he turning into? Some crazed fag like Mr. Garrison?

It must be because of work. It was rubbing off on him. Letting all those men turn him on his stomach and fuck him was doing something to his head. He needed something…was his mother's liquor cabinet still stocked?

Cartman slammed the fridge door shut.

He scrambled around next to the fridge and pushed the appliance out of the way with a grunt. The end cabinet door was usually covered by the side of the fridge. That was where his mother had hidden her alcohol. He peered at the bottles, grabbing one that looked full. He sat down on the cracked linoleum, tearing the cap off and pouring some of the fiery amber liquid down his throat.

It was too much. He coughed and hacked for a minute, sputtering drops of whiskey on the floor.

God…look at him! He was as poor as Kenny! Drinking whiskey on the floor with a bunch of roaches and trash!

"Fuck!" he screamed at the empty, dirty kitchen, where the only ones who could hear him were the roaches.


	8. Roaches in the Closet

Holy shit! 150 hits in a day! Thanks guys! And nine reviews? I feel like its Christmas all over again! It's you guys that keep me writing, so thank you very much!

Rig

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

___

Kyle dabbed at the blood gingerly. His nose wasn't broken, though the throbbing pain on his face now matched the one in his leg. He was balanced like a crane in his bathroom, his good leg taking all of his weight while one hand steadied him on the counter. The other was carefully stopping the bleeding and making sure nothing was damaged.

He touched his nose, feeling around the cartilage. The bone was good, no breaks of any sort to be found.

Wonderful how his mother hadn't even bothered to come up the stairs and see what had happened. He glared at himself in the mirror, frowning slightly. He needed to put his hat back on…his hair was getting to its normal ridiculously poofy size.

Kyle grabbed his crutches and hobbled back to his room, quickly emailing the paper to Cartman with one hand on the keyboard. It was going to be a long Monday tomorrow.

He was about to shut down the computer when the IM program met his eye. He might as well see if Stan was on; he wasn't going to get any sleep after the argument with Cartman.

He slid into the computer chair and signed on, glad to see that both Stan and Kenny were online. Cartman he usually kept on invisible. Kyle smiled softly and invited them both to a conference chat. They accepted almost instantly.

Kyman234: Hey dudes.

He typed, relieved to have some down time with his two friends.

ZombieK: Hey. So Stan tells me you have a new gf.

Kyle smiled at the screen. He would have known that Kenny would have sniffed out anything new…especially if it had to do with girls. He hadn't even really told Stan he liked a girl. Stan being Stan had assumed so.

ZombieK: Anyone Im sleeping with? Lol

Kyman234: I don't think so.

QBMarsh: Dude it's like midnight and you need to present tomorrow.

Kyman234: I know, I'm getting sleep.

ZombieK: Cartman's gonna rip on you tomorrow if you tell him

QBMarsh: I'll tell him not to mess with you Kyle.

Kyman234: Thanks dude. I'm going to bed. Night.

ZombieK: Alone?

QBMarsh: lol. Kenny don't be a perv.

Kyman234: GoodNIGHT, guys.

Kyle signed off, smiling and shaking his head. He wasn't even sure he liked someone, and here his two best friends were already protecting him from Cartman's teasing.

He leaned back in the chair, sighing. Did he really like Cartman? The way he'd acted when Cartman was leaning over his chair was anything but inconspicuous. Kyle ran his hand down his face. He had to face facts. Cartman incited in him all the emotions Stan had described. The only problem was…no one was ever going to find out about this. So what if he liked Cartman? It was a small phase that would pass.

Hopefully.

___

"Where the hell is he…" Kyle growled, pacing back and forth in front of Cartman's house. It was hard to pace hobbling around on crutches, but Kyle was managing just fine for the moment. They were supposed to go to school! He had come here to make sure the fatass wasn't just sitting on the couch…but he couldn't bring himself to get through the door.

He carefully dragged his leg up the steps, praying there wasn't any ice, and knocked on the door.

"Cartman open up!" he shouted at the impartial wood door. "I know you're in there, and you're not leaving me to present this project on my own! Get over here fatass!"

He waited for a few minutes longer.

There was nothing from inside the house. No response, no shifting, no feet on the stairs. "God dammit Cartman if you don't come out here I'm coming inside!" Kyle shouted.

Silence.

"Cartman, I'm coming in!" Kyle twisted the knob and pushed the door open, wobbling inside. The house was dark…the living room was empty. He carefully walked in and almost fell over in surprise when roaches scuttled out of view under the couch. "Oh,_ gross_." Kyle shuddered, carefully limping across the living room to the kitchen.

There, among several dozen pizza boxes and refuse, was Cartman. Kyle was floored. Never had he seen the Cartman residence so filthy…and Cartman was sleeping on the floor in the kitchen?

His eyes passed over the empty whiskey bottle. No, passed out in the kitchen. He was drinking last night.

Kyle made a face. Cartman usually abhorred things like this because of his mother's past actions. Now he saw more of Leanne in her son than Cartman himself. "Cartman what the fuck?" Kyle barely got the words past his lips. He kicked the other boy with his good leg in the shin, but barely got a groan out of the larger boy.

"Cartman wake up! What the hell have you been doing to yourself? Cartman!" Kyle wanted to get on his knees and shake him, but he didn't want to kneel in trash…and the thought of roaches getting in his cast was enough to send a shiver down his spine.

But he couldn't leave Cartman. Seeing him like that made his heart ache…literally burn, like he had a physical injury. He nudged some of the trash aside with his crutch and dug through the crowded countertop, scaring away more roaches. The smell was unbearable…worse than Kenny's house. He finally found a glass that looked as if it hadn't been used in months, and filled it with water from the sink.

He stepped back a foot or so to make sure Cartman didn't take out his leg when he woke, and threw the water on his face.

"What the fuck?!" Cartman shouted, struggling to get up in the mound of trash, and finally getting to his feet. Water dripped down his face and his short brown hair. He groaned and clutched his head, shutting his eyes. "Kahl…what the fuck are you doing in my house…" he moaned. "Get out."

"No!" Kyle yelled back at him. Cartman flinched. Kyle glared. He had a hangover. Good. Served the fatass right! What the hell was he doing living like this?!

"You tell me what's going on right now Cartman! We have school in an hour and you're not even showered! Look at you! Did you drink that whole bottle?!" Kyle demanded, firing question after question at the boy.

Cartman growled and covered his ears. "Shut your mouth!" he snapped. "I've got a headache…" he leaned back against the kitchen counter.

"No, I'm not going to shut up! Where the heck is your mom Cartman? What the hell is going on?" Kyle clutched his crutches close when he saw brown, bloodshot eyes turn to him.

"Kyle…just stop. Go home." Cartman said softly, wiping the water off of his face with his sleeve. "It's none of your business."

"It is my business Cartman! I've known you since you were four years old." Kyle said. "Where's your mom?"

"How the fuck should I know? I haven't seen her in six months!" Cartman shouted at him.

Kyle's eyes widened. Six…months? That was around the time Cartman had started skipping class…started losing weight. Began avoiding being around Butters or any of the other boys he constantly manipulated. He'd been without his mother for half a year?

"Yeah, that's right. She fucking packed up and left me! So you can just turn the hell around and get out of my life! You didn't need to poke your fucking kike nose around my business, Kyle!" Cartman growled.

"Cartman…" Kyle trailed off, biting his lip.

"Fuck you Kahl!" Cartman snarled. "Fuck you, so get the fuck out of my life! And if you tell anyone about this…especially Stan or Kenny…I will kill you Kyle. Remember what I did to Scott Tenorman? That's going to be child's play compared to what I'm going to do to you."

Kyle stared. "Cartman…you need some help. Really, you can't live like this. Even Kenny has better living conditions." He gestured around at the trash.

"Don't you compare me to that poor piece of shit!" Cartman growled.

"Speaking of poor how the heck do you get money Cartman?" Kyle asked, folding his arms across his chest with the crutches nestled against his body.

Cartman looked like he was about to spew more obscenities, but then paled and ran to the bathroom. Kyle listened for a moment and heard him retching. He sighed and laid one of the crutches aside, picking up a forgotten trash bag and starting to stuff some of the pizza boxes into it. If Cartman wasn't going to take care of himself, he would.

He could scarcely believe that Leanne had just abandoned her son. She loved him more than anything else in the world, and frequently said so. As far as he could tell, she and Cartman were all each other had. They couldn't afford to be apart from each other.

Kyle sighed. He'd need a lot more bags if he was going to help clean up the Cartman household. It looked like Leanne had even taken the bleach out from under the sink. It was like she had just erased her presence from the household. He felt a twinge of pity for Cartman. He hated his own mother, but if she left he would be devastated.

What was Cartman feeling, now that the center of his world had been so cruelly cut out? No wonder he was so vicious. He stuffed an old KFC bucket into the trash bag and tied it shut, then rooted around for a broom.

He swept awkwardly with one hand, making little piles of dirt. He glared at the roaches when they panicked and ran out of the room. "I'm going to need some Raid." He mumbled.

He was at the sink tackling the disgustingly high pile of dishes when Cartman came downstairs, wiping his mouth.

"What are you doing?" he asked flatly.

"I'm cleaning up your fucking disgusting kitchen. Garrison can just wait to get the project until tomorrow." Kyle snapped at him.

"Why?"

"Because I'm not going to school when you're throwing up around trash and roaches!" Kyle responded angrily, grabbing the steel wool off the sink and scrubbing at a pot.

"I meant why are you cleaning my kitchen Kyle?" Cartman asked calmly, walking up behind Kyle. Kyle blushed and looked down at the soap bubbles rising in the pot.

"Well…no one's going to help you except me us right? Stan, Kenny and me are your friends. You could have told us this happened…we could have let you stay at Stan's house or something. His mom would have understood." Kyle said, biting his lip and looking back at Cartman, who scowled.

"I didn't want your fucking charity Kyle. Besides Stan and Kenny aren't here. You are." He pointed out.

"Whatever." Kyle muttered.


	9. I Only Want One Rat in my House

Heylo and thanks to the reviewers! Holy shit…55 readers. I am loved.

Alcorion – I didn't feel right cutting that adorable Jew-fro Kyle has. It's part of his charm... and I find it incredibly sexy. I used the Kyman handle after you called the pair Kyman. I've always heard it called KyCart. So that's a bit of a tribute to you!

xoxoNatalie- I write every single day, and I hope to keep up this pace barring any sort of family nastiness.

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

____

Kyle sat on the couch, breathing hard. Who knew that having a six pound cast on one leg could cripple him so much? It was like dragging a ball and chain around the house, through trash. Kyle rested against the far armrest, picking up his leg and settling it down on the cushions.

"There…" he looked around at the room, smiling at his work. He pulled off his hat, ruffling up his mass of red curls. They cascaded around his face, highlighting his freckles and making his green eyes sparkle. The house was vacuumed, the floor mopped in the kitchen. All of the ground floor was clean…the kitchen, the living room, the dining room, and the basement. All cleaned.

Kyle looked across the room at the TV he'd dusted awkwardly, thinking. He was glad he'd cleaned the house…ignoring the fifteen or so times his phone buzzed in his pocket. But now he was hot, sweaty and tired from lugging his broken ankle around the house. Cartman had watched him for an hour or so, then disappeared upstairs and hadn't been seen since.

That was around six hours ago. Stan and Kenny would just be getting out of school now.

"Cartman! Come down here! It's clean!" Kyle shouted upstairs. He heard no response and shrugged, grabbing the remote from the armrest and clicking the TV on. He wasn't surprised to see that while Cartman was poor…he did have cable.

They had gotten to know each other a little at least. Cartman had refused to talk about anything to do with money or his mother leaving, which were the two subjects nearest Kyle's mind. But they made small talk without insulting each other.

Kyle flipped through channels, listening for signs Cartman may be coming down the stairs.

He had just settled on watching old reruns of a childhood favorite, Family Guy, before he heard a knock at the door.

"Cartman! Door!" Kyle shouted. No answer.

"Oh for Moses' sake…" Kyle grabbed his crutches and slid them under his arms, heading to answer the door. He opened the door to see a man standing there. He frowned. "Who are you?" he asked.

"Uh… I was hoping for little Eric but god damn cutie…I'll take you bent over a bed any day." The man growled lustily, looking up and down Kyle's body. Kyle's mouth almost hit the doorstep.

"_Excuse me?!" _Kyle shrieked.

"Oh don't act coy…I love the hair." The man reached up and wound a finger in Kyle's hair. The Jewish boy slapped the hand away. "Ooh, feisty. Don't worry, I'll pay just as well as I do for Eric."

Kyle squeaked when two arms encircled him and forced him back into the living room, and a foul-smelling mouth mashed onto his. Kyle yelped and pushed at the man's shoulders, squirming when he felt fingers on his rear.

Oh god what was Cartman into? Was this what Cartman had been doing for money? This?! What his mother had been doing since he was little?!

Kyle pushed the other man off and without a word, punched him in the face. "Get the hell away from me, you pervert!" he shouted, his eyes blazing. "How dare you touch me! And you, you tell everyone you know that Eric Cartman has been…servicing…to stop coming around!"

The man stared, shocked, holding his nose and staring at Kyle. Kyle wobbled unsteadily, off balance from punching the other man.

"Aw baby don't be like that…"

"Get out!" Kyle screamed, pointing at the open door. "Or I'll report you to the police for trying to rape a minor!"

That got the man moving. He ran out the door and slammed it shut, leaving Kyle to flop down on the cleaned carpet. His leg was throbbing again, twice as badly as before.

Cartman came down the stairs, eyes red, and one half shut. "Kahl. What the fuck was that?" he demanded.

"I think he was drunk…he thought you were whoring yourself out." Kyle said angrily, folding his arms across his chest.

Cartman cleared his throat. "Heheh….fancy that." He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Cartman…is there something you need to tell me?" Kyle asked sternly.

"Jesus Jew what the fuck are you, my mother?" Cartman sneered. "Oh that's right, you're not. You want to be the fucking maid."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Would it kill you to open up for five minutes?" he asked.

"Yes." Cartman said, gesturing for Kyle to move his leg aside. Kyle pulled his leg on the floor, settling it so he didn't feel any pain. Cartman settled onto the cushions next to him. "You want some pizza or something?" Cartman asked.

Kyle nodded, but he was tired. When Cartman settled down next to him after using Kyle's cell phone to order the pizza, Kyle was asleep.

___

Cartman sighed and grabbed the remote off of Kyle's lap, flicking through channels. Kyle watched Family Guy…how fucking gay. He leaned back and sighed, putting his arm on the back of the sofa. "Man…" he looked around the room.

The little Jew-rat was pretty good at cleaning houses after all. He'd been upstairs hiding all the condoms and sex toys, just in case Kyle had come upstairs. Then he'd smoked some of his mother's pot and slept for an hour or so. But this…this was pretty nice. There were no roaches in sight, the carpet was back to its usual celery green, not the sad grayish brown it had been. The trash was all gone…maybe Kyle should be a maid.

Cartman smirked at the idea of Kyle running around in a French maid's outfit. It wasn't an unattractive image.

He started when he felt a weight settle against his side, and looked over to find his little Jew nestled against his side. Kyle's head was nuzzled on his stomach, one of his hands curled up on Cartman's hip, legs stretched out.

"Kyle." Cartman said flatly, poking his friend in the side. Kyle groaned and pressed his face into Cartman's gut.

Maybe…maybe this wasn't so bad. Cartman looked down at Kyle and hesitantly wound his fingers into those tempting curls. He smiled and ran his finger along Kyle's cheek. His little jew-rat sighed into his stomach.

Kyle must have been tired. He was dead asleep, snoring softly.

Cartman gently guided his hand back to Kyle's curls. "Damn you're cute when you sleep, you little kike." He said quietly, running his fingers down Kyle's scalp. Too bad he couldn't let Kyle know that he liked him. That would bring up too many bad things that Cartman had done in the past.

What if Kyle outed him to the school?

It was plausible. All those years of abuse couldn't have cultured a lot of love for him. Kyle might out him at school just to get some revenge. No, this little affectionate pawing was for Cartman and Cartman alone.

After poking Kyle again to make sure he was asleep, Cartman slowly leaned down and pressed his lips to Kyle's cheek.

The doorbell rang again, prompting Cartman to sit straight up. Kyle groaned and his eyelids fluttered open. He saw where he was and struggled to sit up, blushing. "Sorry Cartman." He said, rubbing his eyes with a hand, propping himself up with the other.

"Finally. My leg was falling asleep." Cartman growled, standing up and going to answer the door. Kyle laid down in the warm spot where Cartman had been sitting, smirking at the TV. Cartman had never been able to stand Family Guy.

"Kenny? What the fuck are you doing with the pizza boy?" Cartman demanded at the doorway.

"Mometimems phe pipha phalls oph meh mruck."

"So you follow him around like some sort of dog hoping a pizza drops loose? You're pathetic, Kenny." Cartman growled, paying the pizza man and protectively holding onto the box Kenny was eyeing.

"C'mon dude, let him come in and share it." Kyle piped up from the couch.

Cartman glared down Kenny. He was interrupting his private time with Kyle. Who knew when he'd be able to paw the Jew like that again? Unless Kyle took up wrestling or Mr. Garrison put them on another project, they'd go back to how it always had been. Arguments. Nothing more.

"Fine you poor piece of shit." Cartman muttered under his breath, turning his back but leaving the door open. Kyle was sitting upright now, letting Cartman reclaim his seat on the couch. Kenny took the floor, facing them, looking between the two of them.

He giggled. "Mhat mou phoing mere, Kyle?" he asked with a knowing wink. "Mey!" he yelped when Cartman viciously kicked him, then handed him a piece of pizza with pineapple and Canadian bacon.

Kyle had never seen a pizza slice disappear that fast. When Cartman handed him a piece he sighed and slowly started picking out the ham. "You want the ham, Kenny?" he asked. The poor boy nodded emphatically.

"Don't feed him scraps. You feed him he's just going to keep coming around." Cartman muttered. Fucking Kenny. He knew! The poor fucker was giving him that look…the same look he gave Stan when he and Wendy emerged from behind the school with puffy lips and mussed hair. Why the hell was Kyle giving Kenny his food?

"I can't eat ham, Cartman." Kyle sighed and inspected the pizza, then sank his white teeth into it.

"What the fuck do Jews have against pigs anyway?" Cartman growled, handing his crust to Kenny and taking out another piece of pizza.

"Mehyre unmlean." Kenny pointed out.

"Kinda like you Kenny." Cartman glared at him. Kyle chuckled and slowly ate his piece. He was hungry after all the cleaning, but he knew better than to get in between Cartman and food. Kenny was probably the only one brave enough for that endeavor.

Cartman wordlessly handed him and Kenny another piece. The larger boy then mashed two pieces together like a sandwich and bit into it.

"Phan't meat phust one mlice manymore?" Kenny sniggered, wolfing down his second piece and nibbling on the ham Kyle gave him.

"Shut the fuck up Kenneh." Cartman said around the pizza in his mouth.

"Maybe phou're mouf haph been phretched out, eh?" Kenny gave him that knowing look again and Cartman froze. What the hell else did the poor boy know about?!

He laid the box in Kyle's lap and stood up, brushing pizza crumbs onto the floor.

"Dude I just vacuumed…" Kyle looked forlornly at the floor.

Cartman snatched Kenny's hand and half-dragged, half-pulled him into the kitchen. "Alright Kenny, what the fuck do you know?" he hissed, grabbing the skinny boy by the front of his parka and shaking him.

Kenny pushed him off and pulled down his hood, exposing a rather cute if bony face, and blond hair that seemed to constantly stick up at odd angles. "I know you took over your mom's old position of crack whore." He said. "I heard from Butters that his dad keeps coming over here to…_check on you_. Come to think of it, most of the town drunks and drug dealers are _checking on you_." Kenny waggled his fingers in quotations.

Cartman paled. "Kenny…don't you fucking dare tell Kyle." He growled low in his chest.

"I think he's going to figure it out. Why did you invite him over here anyway? Garrison was pissed that you didn't come into class. He said he was betting on you two to fail. Stan convinced him not to just tank your guys' grades." Kenny said, folding his arms.

"Well Stan's good for something at least." Cartman muttered, leaning against his counter. "Can you keep your poor fucking mouth shut about me? I have bills to pay and I don't want to end up running after the pizza truck."

Kenny smirked. "I can, but you're going to have to feed me every night." He grinned. "And what, pray tell, is our dear little crippled friend doing here?"

Cartman blushed. "Kenny, that is _mah_ business. Not yours. _Mahne_. You will keep your dirty welfare nose out of this." He snapped.

"If you feed me. I like pizza and takeout." Kenny said.

"Fine. Just keep your mouth shut."

"Will do." Kenny pulled his hood up over his head and pulled the strings tight, wandering out and receiving a handful of ham from Kyle.

"Here Kenny, take the box. I'm sure your big brother's going to want some." Kyle said, handing him the box.

Kenny nodded gratefully and headed out the door, winking at Cartman.

"Why the fuck did you give him the rest of the pizza?" Cartman growled. Kyle shrugged.

"He needs it more than we do, Cartman." Kyle said, settling back. Cartman rubbed the back of his neck.

"Hey, do you want a ride home?" Cartman asked nervously.

Kyle pulled his phone out of his pocket and winced. "Twenty seven missed calls…all from my mom." He said quietly. "Sure…do you have a license?"

"Does it matter?" Cartman grinned.


	10. Dolls in my Head

I might start another fic soon about Butters and his abusive parents…what do you guys think? Let me know.

Alcorion- You're very welcome! I'm glad you're enjoying the fic.

Hey, tip to all you readers. If you review, and you suggest something or say something in the comments, I like to try and weave those in as a little thank you for saying something. So review, review, review!

Oh, and before I forget. New poll up on my profile as to my next fic. Go ahead and vote for your favorite pair. It doesn't mean this one is ending though, by all means.

Rig

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

___

"Cartman!"

The car pitched left, skidding on the icy pavement, and Kyle desperately grabbed the seat.

"_CARTMAN_! Slow down!" Kyle roared over the sound of the engine. The boy in the seat next to him had a grin plastered on his face, the wheel firmly in his hands and one heavy foot pressed down on the gas pedal.

"Kahl, just because you're too much of a pussy to appreciate good driving doesn't mean I have to slow down." Cartman told him, looking over at the Jew huddled up in his seat. To Cartman's credit, he handled the Ford Explorer well…he had the strength to make it do whatever he pleased. Kyle was just terrified they were going to go off the road and crash.

Luckily there were only a few stoplights until the Broflovski residence. Cartman slammed on the brakes outside the house, pitching Kyle forward in his seat. The boy ended up pinned between the seat and the dashboard, glaring angrily at Cartman.

"I clean your house and you try and kill me? Fucking grateful friend you are, fatass!"

Cartman laughed at him. "That's why you use the fucking seatbelt, Jew. You know, safety devices are there for a reason, Kahl, and if you don't use them they're not any good." He smirked. Kyle glared at him furiously.

"It's four blocks! I didn't think I needed it and I couldn't put it on with you whipping me around." Kyle said, sighing and climbing upright in the seat. Cartman's mother hadn't skimped when it came to the family ride. Even though the minivan had been nice when they were eight, she'd upgraded to an Explorer when Cartman finished middle school. Kyle wasn't surprised he remembered that week…Cartman didn't stop teasing him about having a better car for most of it.

"Kyle…I'm not hearing a phrase from you…" Cartman said calmly when Kyle opened the door and grabbed his crutches out of the back seat.

"Thanks, Cartman." Kyle shook his head and closed the door, watching the other boy drive crazily off, then come back after pulling a quick U-turn at the end of the road. "Crazy shit." Kyle was about to turn and go into his house when he saw his younger brother gesturing at him to come into the garage.

"Ike?" Kyle tilted his head and readjusted his crutches, striding toward the ten year old frantically gesturing at him.

"Dude, Mom is on the warpath." Ike whispered to him as soon as Kyle ducked under the garage door and sat on a box.

Kyle groaned and closed his eyes. "Oh Jesus Christ…it's because I didn't answer her phone calls isn't it?" he muttered. Ike gave him a look.

"You think?" Ike snapped. "Look, mom looked up your phone online. She put a tracer chip in it…you were at the Cartmans' all day. She thought Eric had kidnapped you and was ransoming you for some racist reason. Why the hell were you there all day? You skipped school and your friends were looking for you. I told Stan you weren't here when he called…you're lucky I picked up otherwise Mom would have gone nuts on him."

Kyle swore, scratching at an itch in his scalp through his hat. "I was helping Cartman out with something." He said.

One look at his little brother told him he wasn't buying a word of it. Ike was a genius…he had gotten into a serious relationship at three years old, spoke almost as well as Kyle at that age, and was intelligent enough to write complicated sentences. He didn't believe a damned word of what Kyle was saying.

"With what, his erection?" Ike said.

Kyle stared, a blush creeping up his neck. "I-what? No! This is Cartman we're talking about Ike!"

"The one you stare at constantly, bicker with like an old married couple, and occasionally get into gayer than hell situations with. He's always saving you. Come on big brother. I know you like him. I've seen it since you were twelve…you can't hide shit from me." Ike said, smirking.

Kyle was openmouthed, grasping for an excuse to refute Ike. The little shit was smarter than he thought!

"Don't worry, I'll keep your secret. Stan is still clueless. He thinks you two hate each other…Kenny I'm not sure about. He's smarter than he looks." Ike continued. "Wipe that look off your face and go face the music. I just wanted to let you know that I know, okay? And I'm cool with it. The gay thing. Just don't fuck the fat Nazi in my bed."

Kyle's mouth was opening and closing like a fish. He was well and truly thunderstruck. He was just coming to terms with the fact he liked Cartman himself, let alone Ike bringing up sex with Cartman.

He looked at the garage floor. Sex with Cartman…it wasn't as disgusting an idea as it had been when they were small. Cartman wasn't as fat…he was strong, confident as ever. Still a bit chubby but it was Cartman. He wouldn't look right thin.

He was even handsome, not that he'd let Cartman know it but that list the girls had made in the fourth grade was somewhat prophetic. Kyle bit his lip. If Cartman wanted to, if Cartman felt the same way…would he? Did they have a chance of being together?

He hated the idea of Cartman alone, all by himself in that house. Doing Moses knew what for money…no food in his fridge. Did he dare tell Cartman he liked him? Was he risking even more mockery at school? Beatings from Cartman, even?

What would Stan and Kenny think? His super best friend was fairly clueless when it came to Kyle's love life, and as far as he knew Kenny thought he had a girlfriend.

He rubbed his neck. He'd been keeping a secret for years, even if he hadn't realized it his brother had. It was time.

He had to tell the fat, overbearing, racist, sexist, lying, cheating, manipulative son of a crack whore…he loved him.

"Kyle! Hiding in the garage isn't going to do anything but piss Mom off more. She called you like thirty times trying to find you." Ike said, poking his head into the garage.

Kyle struggled to his feet. Time to face the music.

_____

Cartman shut the door to his house, smirking and sitting down on his couch. His smile somewhat disappeared after a few minutes. That's right. The Jew wasn't around anymore. It was strange how he got used to having the little kike around after only a day of him cleaning house.

Maybe Jews had an inborn talent for cleaning, being picky little shits themselves.

He shrugged at the thought and laid down on his couch, smiling. Kyle's scent was all over one half of his couch, and it was one he wanted to stay there. Of course he could smell Kenny too…Cartman had always had an extraordinarily keen sense of smell. He blamed it on his mother teaching him to cook using his nose.

He stretched out, resting his hands on his stomach. He'd get Kyle to come home with him from school tomorrow. He had an evil look on his face. The kike had forgotten to do the upstairs. Little Kahl still had a job to do. Lazy Jew.

Perhaps they could reach some arrangement.

The cogs were just beginning to turn in his head when his doorbell rang. He growled. "What the fuck is it with people and coming to my house today? Jesus fucking Christ." Cartman grunted, heaving himself off of the couch.

He peered through the peephole this time. Clients were perfectly fine at this time of day…normally. But Cartman needed to think, not moan and groan for cash. He narrowed his eye against the tiny glass window.

What the hell was Stan doing here?

He unlocked the door and whipped it open, freezing Stan mid-way to pushing his doorbell again.

"Hey Cartman." Stan said, jamming his mittens into his pockets as he was wont to do when he was nervous about talking.

"Stan." Cartman greeted, leaning against his doorway.

"Look, I'm not going to be long but it's about Kyle." Stan said, awkwardly looking at Cartman. Cartman noticed with some degree of satisfaction that the raven-haired boy's eyes kept avoiding his own, preferring to roam around his face. Good. So Stan was intimidated.

"The little Jew-rat came here all on his own. I wasn't fucking holding him hostage or anything." Cartman interrupted.

"No, I know that. He told me he had to come over here today. But…see…he likes a girl in our class. He won't tell me who, but he's got his eye on her and I'd prefer you didn't fuck this up for him." Stan said, finally lifting his eyes to meet Cartman's. The football player was sure he saw a sliver of confusion and…disappointment? Then it clouded over and Cartman assumed his usual angry look.

Cartman felt a part of him drop to the pit of his stomach. That answered the question about Kyle being gay. "If Kyle wants to chase some pussy it's not my business. The bitch better be able to handle our group, and if she can't then it's her fucking problem and not mine." He sneered.

Stan gripped the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger in frustration. "Cartman. I know what's going to happen if she so much as approaches you. Me and Kenny can keep it to light teasing, and I know Kyle will brush it off. But you will use every offensive tactic you have in that screwed up head of yours to split them up. I don't want to see Kyle hurt, okay?" he said. "I don't want to have to threaten you, but if it comes to it I will get the football team behind Kyle and his girlfriend."

Cartman laughed nastily. "I can handle your stupid jocks." He snapped, and slammed the door in Stan's face. He pressed his cheek to the door again, seeing Stan raise his fist as if to knock on the door, then jam his hands in his pockets again and head for the street.

The large boy re-locked the door and clenched his fists, stomping up the stairs to his room and sitting down on his bed.

_What were you expecting…Kyle to just run into the arms of the new town crack whore? Kenny had a point._

Cartman lifted his head and stared into the plastic eyes of Clyde Frog, sitting in his corner. Silently grinning at him.

"Fuck you Clyde Frog." Cartman snapped.

_Oh that's your answer to everything isn't it? Fuck the world. Too bad…even if Kyle was gay, I don't think he could see you as anything other than an overweight racist who picked on him when he was little._

Cartman put his arms around himself, looking down at his body. He shut his eyes, feeling that familiar pang of physical hurt in the middle of his chest.

_Disgusting, isn't it? I wouldn't want to see you naked even if I was your mother. I think she finally realized what a sore you became on her backside. You're just a festering infection…some forgotten abortion._

Cartman lay down on his side on his bed, pulling his pillow close and screaming into it. The stuffed toy watched him from the corner of the room, indifferent to the sobs coming from those broad shoulders.

_There now. I'll still be here. I always was, and I always will be._


	11. A Deal with the Devil

Rut-Lance Crystal –Fairy – Daaamn you are just rippin up the chapters! Thanks for the reviews!

Alcorion – Always look forward to your reviews my friend! Clyde Frog is something Cartman's always been attached to, and the fact that he's now something of a second voice in Cartman's head shows just how psychologically damaged he is. Until next time!

PureFluff- Thank you very much! I've always viewed Stan as the sort of person who wouldn't see something, even if it was right in front of his face. He's sort of clueless sometimes, and insightful other times.

. _BALLS_. 20 reviews?! Thank you so much you guys! I'm getting a lot more readers on this thing due to my Traffic-O-Meter, and I'm happy the story is all to your likings.

Rig

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

___

Kyle stood outside Mr. Garrison's classroom, concentrating on his breathing. "I can't believe I'm going to tell him today." He said softly to himself. "God help me." He pushed the door open and went to go sit in his seat.

Stan was already there, book open on his desk. "Don't worry dude. Your presentation should go okay today. I told Cartman that if he screwed with you, the whole football team would beat the crap out of him." He said.

Kyle slowly turned around in his chair. "Dude…what exactly did you say to him?" he asked.

"I just said you liked a girl and if he screwed with you at school today I'd get a bunch of the football team together and kick his ass." Stan said. "So you've got your presentation right?"

Kyle blinked when he saw Cartman open the door to the classroom and silently sit down in front of him, their project firmly in his hands. "Cartman?" Kyle said quietly. "I need to talk to you after class."

"Kyle. Just do me a favor and don't ever speak to me again." Cartman growled, not turning around in his seat.

"Now Eric, Kyle, get up here and do your stupid project so we can move on." Mr. Garrison said, putting his head in his hand. Cartman silently got up and stood in front of the class. Kyle stood next to him. He could feel Cartman seething next to him. It was in his voice when he spoke. In his spine.

Kyle frowned. What the hell was up with Cartman?

"So here we have a specimen of exactly what Adolf Hitler was talking about. This here is the common Jew, class." Cartman said, gesturing to Kyle and standing aside so his classmate was brought to the forefront. "Jews usually try and mask their lying tendencies by more lying, and often ruin everything they touch. Jews are the lowest members of the human species, and Mr. Hitler understood this. He understood that the Jews tried to kill his people, and he was just trying to get some revenge. Kyle though is a rare species of Jew. He is also a ginger, which makes him both a poisonous snake and contagious."

Kyle gaped. "Cartman what the fuck?" he snarled, clenching his fists on his crutches.

"Eric, that's enough." Mr. Garrison said tiredly. "Turn in your paper and go sit down."

"Kahl thank you for volunteering, you ugly little kike." Cartman said, shuffling the papers and laying them on Mr. Garrison's desk. Kyle was still staring at Cartman.

"Kyle, go ahead and sit down." Mr. Garrison urged.

Kyle sat down in his seat, staring at his desk. He couldn't believe it. Cartman was acting a little bit more decent to him yesterday…what the hell had happened? Cartman wasn't looking at him at all. "Cartman I need to fucking talk to you!" Kyle hissed at the back of Cartman's head.

"I don't want to talk to you Kahl." Cartman said calmly.

"Mr. Garrison, I need my insulin shot. Can Cartman come with me to the nurse?" Kyle said. Mr. Garrison gestured, waving a wrist for the two of them to leave class.

"Kyle what the fuck are you doing?" Cartman snarled, but didn't have time to say much more. Kyle grabbed his arm and got up, seizing one of his crutches and awkwardly dragging Cartman out of the room.

"Cartman you need to tell me what's going on with you! We hung out all day yesterday, and now suddenly you're back to ripping on me for no particular reason? You ruined our project!" Kyle shouted at him. Cartman had folded his arms and was avoiding Kyle's eyes, looking rather indifferent. The Jewish boy leaned on his crutch like a cane, his knuckles white on the rubber handle.

"Honestly I don't know what I was expecting from you. You act like a human being one minute then you're a complete asshole the next." Kyle said angrily.

Cartman was silent for a moment. "So who is it Kyle?" he asked.

"Who's what?" Kyle asked in exasperation. "You know what, I'm sick of this. I'm sick of you fucking around with me for no reason, and then pulling shit like that in the classroom! You know what? I thought you'd mature out of this when you got older, but you're just going to go through life miserable and alone."

Without another word he turned and walked down the hall, ignoring the fact that class was still going on, that he'd left his other crutch and bag in the classroom. He couldn't do any schoolwork like this.

He opened the back door of the school and sat down on the steps, ignoring the smell of cigarette smoke coming from the goth kids who hung out there. They gave him bored glances and went back to listening to their music, occasionally asking for a light or another cigarette. Kyle was content to ignore him.

After last night, he wanted the school day to go smoothly.

His mother had kept him up until eleven at night, lecturing him about staying away from 'that Cartman boy' and not answering his phone. Kyle had decided to leave the blasted thing at home from now on. He wasn't going to let his mom check up on him every second of every day anymore.

He folded his arms and settled them on his knees, putting his chin on his arms. He still felt a lot of pity for Cartman…still liked him. Somehow Kyle didn't think that would ever change.

Well, if Cartman wanted to toy with him like that, he wouldn't tell him he liked him. No, two could play at this game.

Maybe the girlfriend rumor would work to his advantage.

"Hey, Henrietta?" he asked the slightly overweight goth girl sitting on a step below him.

"What do you want, you little Gap whore?" the girl asked him with a frown on her face, taking a drag from her cigarette holder.

"You want to make some money?" Kyle asked.

"What the fuck are you talking about, kid?" The large nosed goth asked him, though he seemed rather indifferent as to Henrietta's feelings.

Henrietta glared at him. "Why don't you go hang out with that jock kid, the fat one and the poor one?" she growled.

"No, that's the point. They think I have a girlfriend, but I don't, and so I need some girl to cover for me." Kyle explained.

"Then go find some Banana Republic slut and date her." The floppy-haired goth muttered.

"I can't dude, then I'd have to deal with Wendy and the other girls. With you guys, they wouldn't expect it." Kyle said.

"Ten dollars a week." Henrietta said in her usual drawl.

Kyle gaped. "Henrietta, I don't have a job! My parents aren't going to give me ten dollars a week!" he protested.

"That's the deal kid, take it or leave it." Henrietta smirked.

Kyle sighed and nodded. "Okay, but you better be a good actor. My name's Kyle, by the way, not kid. Kyle Broflovski." He smiled.

"Whatever. First installment is due Monday." Henrietta said.

Kyle nodded. "Meet me before school tomorrow. Remember, you have to act like it for the rest of the day, and no skulking behind the back of the school." He said. "And…um…could you dress a little more normally?"

Henrietta narrowed her eyes. "That's going to cost you extra, Kyle. Look, I'll show up and I'll act like I actually like you and the rest of the drones. But you're going to have to hang out _here_." She stuck her cigarette holder back between her teeth.

"The world's worse than we are." The kindergarten goth whispered softly.

____

"Now Bebe let's get down to the facts." Cartman folded his fingers on top of the lunchroom table, one eyebrow raised and looking across at the curly haired blonde girl. "Do you know which one of the girls Kyle is dating?"

"Cartman, I'm really not interested in whatever the heck you're plotting. As far as I know none of the girls are dating Kyle." Bebe answered.

"So you admit one of the girls could be dating Kahl, you just don't know about it? I thought you were informed, Bebe. I thought you knew what went on in this school. Guess I was wrong." Cartman gave a dramatic sigh. "Well I've got one free pair of shoes from Aldo to whichever one of the girls brings me prudent information about Kyle's new girl toy. Next please."

Bebe scowled and hopped down from the bench. Red hopped up on it, and the line of girls behind her peeked out at the coupon Cartman had in one hand.

"Alright Red, tell me what you know and the coupon is yours." Cartman said calmly, folding his hands in front of him.

Kenny and Stan watched from across the lunchroom. "Dude, if I didn't know any better I'd think those girls were lining up to talk to Cartman." Kenny said. He had his hood down for once so he could eat his sloppy joe without it getting all over his parka.

Stan had his head in on hand. "No, he's got a stupid coupon for free shoes from an expensive store and he's trying to find out which one of the girls is dating Kyle. Even Wendy's over there." He said forlornly.

"Well it's no one I'm sleeping with, and that's over half the people in that line." Kenny pointed out, finishing his sandwich and wiping his hands off, then pulling his hood up.

"I wonder why he hasn't told us who it is yet." Stan said. "I mean, I'm his best friend. Is he embarrassed or something? I didn't rag on him when he kissed that homeschooled girl."

Kenny shrugged and went to go return his tray, leaving Stan to watch Cartman interrogate the girls.

The football quarterback rubbed the back of his neck. At least Kyle had a girlfriend now. He would be able to understand having to hang out with a girl more than his friends. Ah well. Misery loves company, right? He looked at Wendy, who seemed to be in a confrontation with Cartman.

"Look you fat asshole. Quit trying to find out who Kyle's dating. It's his own fucking business who he wants to date, and you're manipulating these girls into telling what they know!" Wendy was shouting at Cartman, who looked surprisingly indifferent to her screaming.

"Wendy, if you want the coupon you're going to have to give me something to go on just like everyone else." Cartman said.

Wendy slammed her palms down on the table. "I don't want the god damn shoes Cartman! I want you to stop hurting people! Maybe this girl doesn't want to be known yet. Maybe she can't handle _you_ yet! Do you ever think of anyone else but yourself?" she shouted, glaring at him.

"Wendy…" Cartman sighed and shut his eyes. "I'm just providing a service. They give me the information, I give them the coupon. Everyone wins."

"No! I'm going to find this girl, and make sure she stays the hell away from you!" Wendy pointed at Cartman, and then stomped off out of the cafeteria.

Cartman waved at the other girls. "Alright let's keep the line moving shall we? One of you has to know something…let's keep this civil." He said.


	12. Dashboards are Fallin' on my Head

Alcorion- Kyle dating Henrietta is sure going to put a fire under his friends' asses, I can tell you that. But I think she'd be the only one mercenary enough to do something like this without expecting huge amounts of money (or shoes) in return.

PureFluff- Thanks! I'm always worried about keeping the characters in character. I'm glad Cartman's spot on!

Rut Lance- Crystal Fairy – Dear lord you have a long name. I'm sorry I can't make out some of your reviews, but I hope your computer gets well soon! I chose Henrietta because I've always felt the goths had good potential to be good characters.

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

___

Kyle held Henrietta's hand as they walked back to the lunchroom, the other arm shakily holding the crutch. Henrietta looked somewhat interested at what was going on, but she had ten times the confidence of her 'boyfriend'.

"Quit shaking in your boots, aberzombie. It will be fine. Just expect some jaws to hit the floor." Henrietta purred next to him. Kyle bit his lip and gripped her gloved hand tighter in his when she opened the doors for them, and they marched out into the public as boyfriend and girlfriend.

Henrietta's prediction of jaws hitting the floor was an understatement. Token took one look at the two of them and dropped his lunch tray, spattering sloppy joe and milk all over the floor. Butters screamed and ran out of the room. The girls' table was in complete shock; Bebe had paused with her sandwich halfway to her mouth.

"The _goth_ girl? But she's like the ugliest girl in school! Kyle's too cute for her!" Red squealed.

Cartman leaned across the table and snapped his fingers in Annie's face. His latest interrogation victim had stopped midsentence and was staring at a spot behind his head. "Annie…stay with me." He said, frowning. "What the hell are you looking at, bitch?" he snapped his fingers again, and Annie lifted a finger to point behind Cartman.

The boy twisted around in the bench to see what she was looking at, and his face twisted into an expression that could have been compared with a bear stuck in mid-maul.

"What the fuck is that…" Cartman snarled.

Stan slowly got up from his seat and walked over to Cartman. "Cartman. Either I'm hallucinating or Kyle is holding that goth girl's hand." He said, sitting next to his classmate. Kenny joined them, giggling and holding his stomach.

"Myle's phating Memriepha!" Kenny giggled. "Mealous, Martman?" he batted his eyes at Eric, who clenched his fists.

"No! You shut up Kenny!" Cartman snarled. "Kyle's just trying to fucking piss me off!"

"I guess this is why Kyle didn't tell me…" Stan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't believe he wouldn't trust me with something like this. I'm his best friend." He put Kyle's other crutch across his lap. "I even got his stuff after he went to get his shot."

Kenny rolled his eyes and hopped off the bench to scavenge lunches forgotten by the stunned crowd. Stan just didn't get it. The way Cartman was quaking on the lunchroom bench…God it was obvious. If Eric Theodore Cartman was any more jealous he'd be as green as the pea soup in Chef's kitchen.

Cartman growled, watching Henrietta hold Kyle's hand. They got their lunches together, and they sat by one another. That was his Jew…his! Not hers! He hadn't spent this entire time devising ways to keep the Jew-rat at his house for nothing. Did the Jew just stay over because he felt pity for him?

He didn't like him after all?

Cartman's teeth ground on one another. That bitch would recognize his properteh by the end of the day, he'd make sure of it.

"Well come on, I guess we better be polite." Stan said, sighing and getting up from the bench.

Cartman was still twitching in his seat.

"Cartman…don't say anything. I'm serious." Stan added as he walked over to his best friend. "Hey Kyle." He said, sliding his hands in his pockets.

---

"There's your jock friend." Henrietta nodded toward Stan, taking a drag from her cigarette. "And that fat twerp looks like he's going to explode."

Kyle took one look at Cartman's blazing brown eyes and unconsciously tightened his hold on Henrietta's hand. No. He'd chosen to do this. He was going to show Cartman that he couldn't just toy with him anymore. Eric would just have to live with this.

But how long could he keep the façade up? Henrietta wasn't the most pleasant person to be around. She had hard black eyes instead of soft brown ones…her hand was spidery and not muscular, and she seemed to be content with just being his arm candy.

His heart sank. The only thing, if ever, that Cartman and Henrietta had in common was their dual weight problems.

Kyle straightened when he saw Stan leave the fuming Cartman and come over to him, smiling a bit nervously with his hands in his pockets. The Jew swallowed. Stan was fairly clueless, but he could be incredibly insightful with things like this. Best to keep up a good front.

Kyle bit his lip. "Hey Stan. Uh…this is my girlfriend, Henrietta. I know she's scary to a lot of the other classmates but I've always…uh…sort of liked her." He mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

"I know Henrietta. Remember when Wendy dumped me and I went through that goth phase?" Stan smirked at the memory, and Kyle could have kicked himself. He'd forgotten about Stan's goth stage. "Anyway you could have told me you went over to the dark side dude. If Cartman screws with you just come to me." The footballer continued with a wry grin at the brooding female.

Kyle smiled nervously. "Yeah, I guess. Well…uh…lunch is going to be ending soon. I guess we had better get back to class." He said. He let go of Henrietta, and nearly jumped out of his shoes when she planted a blackened kiss on his cheek.

"See you later." She told him, and wandered off in the direction of the back door.

Kyle rubbed at the black lipstick on his cheek, and took one more glance to where Cartman had been sitting. He was gone.

----

Kyle was grateful Stan had gotten his other crutch for him. It was hard walking with just one. He slid into his seat, gulping when he saw the back of Cartman's head in front of him, low on his shoulders.

Moses. He'd really pissed him off.

He hung his book bag on his chair and pulled out his math book. Mr. Gibbons was their math teacher, but he mostly just wrote the assignments on the board and let them figure the actual math out on their own. Kyle breezed through it in fifteen minutes flat.

It was nice being the smart kid sometimes. He looked over at his friends. Kenny was sleeping on his math book, and Stan looked as if he was about to pull his hair out. Cartman hadn't even taken out his book.

"Dude, don't worry about it. You can copy off me tomorrow." Kyle whispered to Stan.

The quarterback nodded gratefully. "Thanks Kyle." He whispered back, and returned to puzzling over the math. Kyle had to hand it to him. Even if he did copy off of Kyle most of the time, he did try and figure it out on his own.

Kyle felt something brush against his hand and looked back at his desk. A neatly folded note was laying on top of his arm. He picked it up and read the unkempt, chicken scratch handwriting.

_Traitorous Jew,_

_You still have a job to do at my house. Ditch the bitch and come to my house after school._

_-Eric Cartman_

Kyle glared at the note, then pulled out his pen and wrote something back.

_Don't call her a bitch Cartman. I just cleaned your house because I felt sorry for you. I'm not going to do it again. Do it yourself._

_-Kyle_

He crumpled it and tossed it lightly over Cartman's shoulder. He saw the shoulders before him tense, then the sound of hurried scribbling.

The note hit Kyle in the forehead this time and he narrowed his eyes, hurriedly smoothing it out.

_My house after school. I'll drive you there. I'm not taking no for an answer, Jew._

_-E.C._

Kyle rolled his eyes and turned the paper over, writing his reply on the back.

_Whatever fatass. If you're that desperate for company I'll come over for an hour._

_-K.B._

He looked up at Mr. Gibbons, but the teachers was watching something on his computer, earphones in, and wasn't paying attention at all. Kyle tossed the paper over Cartman's shoulder again and saw him relax somewhat. Did the prospect of him coming over really make his longtime adversary feel better?

Kyle received the reply in the form of a neatly folded, new sheet of paper on his desk.

_I'm not fat. Be on time or I'll leave without you. Tick tock._

_-E.C._

Kyle rolled his eyes and crumpled the note, taking another glance at the occupied teacher before pitching it into the waste bin.

The bell rang, signifying the end of the school day, and Cartman bolted out of his seat and headed for the door. Kyle rolled his eyes and packed up his things, throwing his bag over one shoulder and picking up his crutches. Cartman always ran out of school like it was some sort of race.

He hobbled outside to see Cartman in the Explorer, drumming his fingers on the wheel. Slayer was blasting on the radio. Their eyes connected and Kyle saw him sigh dramatically and point to an invisible watch on his wrist. Cartman shook his head as if disappointed.

Kyle glared and ripped open the back seat, throwing his crutches and bag in then carefully hopping to the passenger seat. It was hard to hop on an icy sidewalk without assistance. He took ahold of the handle above the seat on the inside of the car and pulled himself in. "I can't run that fast, fatass!" he snapped at Cartman. "It's only five past!"

"Well I know being lazy is just in your ginger genetics but I expect you to make up these minutes Kyle." Cartman said, taking the car out of park and sped off crazily towards the Cartman residence. Kyle took a quick glance at the speedometer.

How the hell had Cartman gotten up to seventy through the school parking lot without killing anyone?

Kyle kept a firm hold on the seat and the car door armrest. "Why do you have to drive so fast?!" he demanded, his hands clapped over the ear flaps on his hat. He knew Cartman liked metal, but this was ridiculous! His chest was vibrating!

"I'm sorry I can't hear you Kahl." Cartman said calmly over the music.

"_That's because the music's too damn loud!" _Kyle shouted, and moved to turn down the music. Cartman deftly slapped his hand.

"That's mah radio Jew!"

"Assho-" Kyle didn't get to finish the word as he was pressed up against the passenger door when Cartman turned onto their street. He'd forgotten how fast the other boy took turns.

"Cartman slow the fucking car down!"

"Fine you frickin' pussy." Eric snapped, and slammed his foot down on the brake.

Kyle, without his seatbelt yet again, was yanked forward in the seat, and all he saw was the dashboard flying at his forehead. Then guitars were ringing through his head. His vision spun and pain blossomed on his forehead.

"Kahl…what did I tell you about seatbelts you stupid Jew?" Cartman's voice sounded fuzzy and distant, like he was hearing it through a fish tank.

"…Kyle?" The voice sounded slightly concerned. Was it Cartman's? Kyle couldn't remember anymore.

Instead he just closed his eyes and let darkness overtake him.


	13. Kissing is Komplicated

Alcorion- Kyle's sort of a slow learner when it comes to the seatbelt thing huh? I just think he doesn't have enough time before blastoff to put it in securely XD

PureFluff- I've always wondered why Kenny didn't do it before when the class was distracted. Hell, if I was a poor kid I'd be seizing that opportunity.

Pollyprissypants- I. Love. Your. Name. Seriously. It's amazing. You make me happy.

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

___

"Wake up….Kahl…Stupi…ew-rat….Better…not…injured…kick…in…nuts.."

Kyle winced slightly as his hearing faded in and out, turning over in the warmth enclosing him. No, he wanted to stay in the darkness. His head pulsed, blocking out Cartman's words every few seconds, then silence. Kyle could hear his blood rushing through his skull, against his eardrums, behind his eyeballs.

He heard Cartman walking away when his hearing cleared, out of the door.

Moses his head hurt. He slowly opened his eyes to more of the darkness. Cartman must have turned off the lights. The boy's smell was all around him, comforting yet vaguely antagonistic. Kyle lifted a hand to his forehead, rubbing the large bump he felt there.

What was his mom going to say if he went home with this huge bruise?

He sighed and nuzzled deeper into the warmth, unconsciously pulling the covers over his shoulder. Covers? Wait.

He blinked and looked at the pillow his head was laying on. "I'm in Cartman's bed?" he mumbled in surprise. Cartman must have carried him in and cuddled him up in bed. Oh Moses.

Kyle sat up and looked around the bed, seeing his shoes paired neatly on the floor at the foot of the bed…along with his clothes. "What the fuck?!" Kyle yelped, then clutched his head. "Oh God…" he moaned. His head hurt so badly, and sitting up made it worse.

He slowly laid back down on his side, holding his head. Somehow this wasn't so bad. His body was sunk into the bed, heavy blankets piled on top of him.

"Finally. Jews must have thin skulls or something. You were passed out for an hour." Cartman set a tray down on his desk. Kyle could smell tomato soup and bread. He glared at Cartman.

"Dude, I just hit my head on the dashboard. You could have taken me home or something." Kyle said. "Or just laid me on the couch. Why the hell are my clothes off?" he demanded.

"I did that for my mom all the time. Automatic response to an unconscious body." Cartman said stiffly, folding his arms tightly across his chest. Kyle noticed he was blushing slightly.

"Look, Cartman…thanks, I guess." Kyle said. He felt he needed to say something. Cartman looked so awkward standing there shuffling his feet with his cheeks bright pink.

"Whatever Kyle." Cartman said. "You still dizzy? Because if you are you're staying here Kahl. I don't want your Jew ass passing out in the snow."

"Cartman…I agreed to an hour." Kyle said. "What's up with you lately? I came in with Henrietta and you seemed to just flip shit." He was carefully testing the waters with Cartman. He was a dangerous boy to piss off…they'd known that since the Scott Tenorman incident. He might have gone too far getting a fake girlfriend just to piss Cartman off.

"Not my fault you decided to be an asshole and go get some girlfriend." Cartman muttered.

"Stop messing with me Cartman." Kyle sat up and arranged the sheets around his waist, noticing when he looked up to Cartman again, the other boy just barely managed to pull his eyes up and meet them in time. "What's going on? You get drunk in your kitchen, get all pissed off because I have a girlfriend…I'm still going to be friends with you, Stan and Kenny. It's not like anything's going to change."

Cartman rubbed one hand up his arm.

"And you don't have to be such a dick just because of it. I know you don't like changes when they get in the way of you ragging on people, and I know you're dealing with a lot of stress because you're alone. But can you give me a break, dude? I've had my house broken into and broken my leg. Since then you just haven't let up on me. I can usually handle the asshole you, but then you…you do something like this." Kyle finished, pulling off his hat with a sigh. "You act nice. Then when I start thinking you're not a dick, you go and do something like you did with that report."

"It's not about that bitch." Cartman muttered, straightening up and giving Kyle a critical look.

Kyle narrowed his eyes. "Then what is it? You're either planning something or you've got a bug up your ass!" he growled. "You're telling me right now, Cartman, or you're going to let me go downstairs and go home!"

"You can't, Kahl. I hid your crutches."

"God _damn_ it Cartman!" Kyle snarled. "Get your lard ass over here so I can punch you in the fucking face!"

"No."

Kyle gaped at him. "So you're going to keep me prisoner in your room? And what, set the house on fire?" He was so angry he was literally shaking, and didn't notice that Cartman was getting more and more nervous. "_Cartman_! You find me my crutches because I'm _leaving_!" Kyle shouted at the other boy.

"Why do you think I hid them in the first place, Kahl?" Cartman said, the nervousness fading away slightly. He was gaining the upper hand.

"It's these little moments that remind me why I hate your guts." Kyle growled, leaning over and fishing for his pants. He pulled them on, ignoring the slight pain he felt knocking around his injured ankle. "Look, I'm leaving with or without the crutches. I really, really don't care." He swung his legs down onto the floor, gingerly testing how he felt balanced on one foot.

"While it would be hilarious to watch you hop home on one foot, I can't let you do that Kyle." Cartman told him.

"Why the hell not? You'd get a big fucking kick out of seeing me break the other ankle on an icy sidewalk." Kyle snapped, holding onto the bed for balance.

"Have you considered that maybe I don't want you hurt?" Cartman asked patiently.

Kyle laughed nastily. "Right. Sure. You've laughed at me getting hurt ever since we were little."

Cartman chuckled and approached Kyle, making the other unconsciously press his back against the mattress. "To tell the truth…hurting you is getting boring." He whispered, his face inches away from Kyle's. Kyle felt his heart speed up, like someone was twisting a dial to make his blood rush.

"I like making you uncomfortable a lot better." Cartman pressed forward and Kyle felt his back hit the mattress.

"Who said you were making me uncomfortable, fatass?" Kyle tried to bring his usual angry growl back into his voice, but by Cartman's smirking reaction he knew that had failed.

"Because you're blushing, Kahl." Cartman said softly and lowered his head to Kyle's, pressing his lips to the other boy's.

Kyle froze for a minute, and then felt his body relax into the kiss. He nervously pressed his lips back against Cartman's, allowing his old enemy to relax on top of him. He was aware of the other boy's body pressing into his.

He uneasily put his arms around Cartman's neck, forcing his eyes to close no matter how much his instincts told him that Cartman had an ulterior motive. Kyle had no idea how long it was before Cartman lifted his head, smirking at Kyle.

"I think you enjoyed that more than you let on." He whispered.

Kyle knew he was probably as red as his hair. He could feel a very intimate part of Cartman pressing against his thigh. His own pants were tight…probably another reason why Cartman's grin was getting wider.

"Cartman…get off my leg. You're making it fall asleep." Kyle whispered. "I think…I think I need to go." Cartman was stirring up things that scared him. Terrified him and compelled him to forget his fear at the same time.

He saw Eric's face darken slightly and pull away, standing up and folding his arms. "Fine." Cartman growled.

Kyle knew Cartman was taking severe offense to his words, but confusion was starting to give way to panic. He scrambled off the bed and limped out of the room with an apologetic look toward Cartman. Part of him wanted to stay, to experience that kiss again…but he needed answers first. He needed to smooth out his rumpled feelings.

He found his crutches in a nearby closet. "Stupid asshole." Kyle found himself muttering, but most of the venom was lost. He propped them under his arms and carefully, slowly made his way down the stairs. Who could he go to? He didn't dare let Stan know yet.

Kenny always seemed to know what to do in relationships. The McCormick residence wasn't far from here, but he had to leave now if he was going to get there before Kenny wandered off to help scavenge something for dinner. He picked up his bag from the couch and hobbled out of the door. He needed answers, and talking with Cartman was just going to make things ever more awkward.

Twenty minutes of exhausted walking later, Kyle had a headache. Knocking on the door to Kenny's rundown home made it worse.

"Kyle?" Kenny peeked out from the door, pulling down his hood. "Dude, you have a huge bump on your head. What happened?"

"It's a long story…can I come in?" Kyle asked, chewing his lip. He could still slightly taste Cartman.

"It's you and Cartman isn't it? He told you." Kenny smirked and waved Kyle in. "Come in to my humble abode. My parents and brother are out trying to find dinner. Though I'm going to Cartman's later for mine." He grinned.

Kyle blinked. "Cartman's feeding you?"

"In exchange for keeping his secret. Too bad he told you before I could take full advantage of it. In short, he's gay and he likes you." Kenny said, walking to his room. He sat on the old box spring bed, ruffling his short blond hair.

Kyle was getting sick of all the surprises. "He kissed me…You knew about this?" he asked, looking around at the playboy posters all over Kenny's room.

"Actually I figured it out when I followed the pizza guy to his house and saw you two all cuddled up on the couch. He was just sitting there stroking your hair and you were asleep." Kenny said. Kyle sighed and sat next to Kenny.

"Ken…I think I like him back. I mean, I'm not sure." Kyle said softly.

Kenny laughed. "If he kissed you, then that should help. Did you like it?" he asked. "Did he grab ass or did you two just make out?"

Kyle blushed. "It wasn't like that. He was pissing me off, so I tried to leave…then he kissed me." He said.

"Then how did you get that lump?" Kenny poked Kyle's forehead, making the other boy hiss and cover his bump.

"Ow! Kenny don't poke it…it's tender. He was driving me to his house so we could hang out, then we got in an argument about how fast he drives, he slammed on the brakes and I wasn't wearing my seatbelt." Kyle mumbled, watching the grin on Kenny's face grow larger.

"So…just headed to hang out, hm? You and Cartman never hang out alone." He said.

"Look, he was lonely and he wasn't going to shut up until I hung out. That's not the point." Kyle growled. "The point is he kissed me, which means he's got feelings for me, and I don't know how to react. I mean, I kissed him back. What happens now?"

"I'm pretty sure there's nothing there that wasn't there before." Kenny said, shrugging and pulling up his hood. Kyle frowned when Kenny left the room, leaving him sitting on his bed.

What the hell did that mean?


	14. Love Interrupted

Purefluff- Sorry I edited that out after you commented v.v I just felt the chapter didn't sit right with me.

Alcorion- Yep. Took me long enough to have them kiss, but things are gonna be a wild ride for the next few chapters.

So Kyle and Cartman have finally kissed! But it seems to be causing more problems than solving them. More kisses and chaos to come.

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

___

Cartman hid his face next to his mother's pillow, holding onto the sides of the mattress for stability. He couldn't help but think at the back of his mind he was glad Mr. Stotch took this vicious aggression out on him, and not Butters. He already had sizeable bruises on his hips and tiny cuts from the man's vicious grip.

Fifteen minutes, five hundred dollars. Easiest way to think of it.

He sighed and let his mind wander to kissing Kyle. It was a risky move, but the way the Jew had reacted was somewhat positive. If only he hadn't pussied out and run off. Would it have gone further?

Cartman felt a hand grasp the hair close to his scalp and yank back. He growled, pulled forcefully out of his thoughts and back to his unsatisfying, humiliating job.

"You pay attention to me when I'm fucking you." Mr. Stotch snarled under his breath, letting Cartman's head flop back onto the pillow.

The boy narrowed his eyes against the cloth and clenched his hands. But he didn't have any choice. He was out of food, had bills to pay.

He felt Mr. Stotch finish inside of him and pull out cruelly, slapping him on his ample rear. Cartman turned over, looking at the man expectantly. "Five hundred dollars please." He sneered.

"Hold on you fat little mercenary." Mr. Stotch growled, pulling his pants up and doing his belt.

"Money. Now." Cartman held out a hand and tapped his index finger against it. Mr. Stotch rolled his eyes and grabbed his wallet, pulling out five hundred dollar bills and pushing them into the hand.

"You know kid one of these days I'm just going to knock you out with something heavy and get it for free." Mr. Stotch growled.

"Then I report you to the authorities for rape of a minor, Mr. Stotch. And what would dear Linda say? Mm? I think you're better off just paying me." Cartman said, arrogantly thumbing through the money. It was a good way to ignore the stinging pain in his nether regions.

Mr. Stotch peered out of the window. "You've got a visitor. I can't go through the front door." He said.

"Go out the back and jump the backyard fence." Cartman said, unconcerned.

Mr. Stotch frowned. "I'm not going to jump the fence, Eric." He said sternly.

"Your choice, not mine. You're not hiding in here." Cartman growled. Mr. Stotch glared at him for a moment, then headed downstairs.

"Fag." Cartman muttered, folding the wad neatly and pulling his clothes on. He got up and peered out the window to see Kenny tapping his foot. Great. The poor piece of shit had actually remembered Cartman's agreement to feed him.

Cartman sighed and shoved the money into his pocket, heading downstairs. He was glad to see the back door ajar when he peeked into the kitchen. Mr. Stotch was struggling to get over the fence in his backyard. Cartman snickered. "That's for pulling my hair, asshole." He sneered, shutting the back door and locking it.

He heard Kenny knock on the door again and rolled his eyes, stomping to the front door and ripping it open. "Learn to be fucking patient." Cartman snapped as the skinny boy slid inside the house.

"Mm mungry." Kenny said with a grin. "Mand I phot a misit from a phertain boyfmiend of mours."

Cartman paled. "That fucking Jew!" he snarled.

Kenny pulled his hood down and sniffed his jacket, making a face. "Can I use your shower after dinner?" he asked.

"In your poor ass dreams!" Cartman snapped. "Use that shitty tin tub behind your fucking house!"

Kenny laughed and patted him on the shoulder, shutting the front door and heading to the kitchen. "Well he liked the fact that you two eh…made out on his bed?" Kenny peeked out into the living room, phone against his head. "Chinese food good with you?"

"What did he say about me?" Cartman demanded, but Kenny was too busy keeping the phone trapped between his cheek and shoulder, scanning a crumped takeout menu Cartman kept in the phone book.

"_Kenny_."

The poor boy waved Cartman off. "Hey City Wok? I want four number sixes…two number eights, a number two, pork fried rice, and three orders of eggrolls." Kenny said into the phone.

"_KENNY_."

"Make that four orders of eggrolls and add an order of peking duck. Hm? Eighty two dollars? That's cool, my friend's paying. Hey, can we add some of that chow mein? Cool. That makes it…hundred dollars even? Awesome. It's for the Cartman residence downtown. You know it? Sweet. See you in an hour." Kenny hung up the phone.

"Kenny…I'm seriously…you had better be kidding about that huge order." Cartman growled. "What did Kyle say?"

"No, I wasn't. You owe a Chinese guy around a hundred bucks." Kenny grinned.

Cartman clenched his fists. "Kenny you better tell me what Kyle said to you right now, or I'm kicking you out of my house!" he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"Alright…he said he kissed you back, but he was a little confused about how he felt." Kenny said. "So I had to play therapist for a little while. He likes you, you like him…so what's holding you two up from…you know?" he slid his index finger into the fist of his other hand.

Cartman growled. "Shut it Kenny. I don't just want to fuck the little Jew." He leaned against the counter.

Kenny hopped up onto it next to him, grinning. "Oh? You're kinkier than I thought." He elbowed Cartman's shoulder.

"No you poor piece of shit. I want…dates." Cartman muttered.

Kenny started laughing and Cartman seized the poor boy off the counter, pinning him into a headlock. "Kenny you stop laughing you little son of a bitch!" Cartman tightened his hold on the giggling teenager.

"Alright alright!" Kenny struggled.

"Say uncle." Cartman grinned triumphantly.

"Muncle!" Kenny yelled, his shout muffled by Cartman's sweater. Cartman released him.

The Chinese food turned out to be a poor challenge to both the boys' appetites. Even though Cartman was loath to hand over one of the five hundred dollar bills he'd earned hours earlier…he was grateful for Kenny's company. They demolished the feast easily over a few episodes of Terrance and Phillip.

"Damn Cartman…" Kenny looked at the small mound of empty boxes, settling down on the floor with his container of chow mein.

"You ate more than I did you poor piece of shit." Cartman protested, nibbling on the last eggroll.

"Yeah, whatever." Kenny smirked and closed the container, sliding it inside his coat. "Well…I gotta get home. My mom's gonna be happy to eat tonight."

"Kenny…remember the deal. You keep your fucking mouth shut at school. Especially to Stan." Cartman warned as the other boy pulled up his hood.

"What ma phuck mever." Kenny smirked behind his hood and slid out of the Cartman house.

_____

The next morning at school Kyle stared into his locker for a good five minutes before Stan's hand on his shoulder pulled him out of it.

"Dude what's been on your mind lately? Are you ok?" Stan asked, a concerned expression on his face.

Kyle studied his friend for a moment. Poor Stan…Kenny knew about his involvement with Cartman. His best friend was the only one out of the loop. "Yeah, I'm fine." Kyle said quietly.

He saw Wendy appear on Stan's arm and peck his cheek. "Hi Stan." She said, smiling. "Hey Kyle." She added. "I talked to Henrietta for you, and she knows about Cartman."

Trust Wendy to make things more complicated.

Kyle forced a smile on his face and nodded. "Thanks…look, the hallway's almost empty. You guys go on ahead." He said.

"You sure dude? I didn't see Cartman head to class." Stan said, putting his arm around Wendy's waist.

"I can handle Cartman." Kyle said with a smile, watching the two head off down the hallway.

Kyle needed to be alone to think. He turned his homework in early, telling his teachers he had a doctor's appointment for his leg, and sat outside the school on the steps. He sighed and leaned back against the stairs. He definitely wasn't regretting the kiss, now that he thought about it.

"I thought Jews liked studying." He felt a weight drop next to him.

Kyle looked over to Cartman. "Hey." He said, smiling.

"I don't see you ditching class often, Jew." Cartman smirked, putting his arm around Kyle's shoulder and pulling him in next to his body.

Kyle started to tense and pull away, then relaxed. "Hey…Cartman? I'm sorry for running away yesterday." He said softly.

"Say that again Kahl?"

"I'm sorry for running." Kyle repeated, rolling his eyes. Cartman seemed to savor any apology Kyle gave to him. "And…I do want to be with you. I just need you to be discreet about this and keep my feelings in mind."

He looked up at Cartman.

Cartman leaned into him and pressed a kiss onto his forehead. "Good. I like knowing you're my little jew-rat." Cartman nuzzled against his neck, planting another kiss there that made Kyle shudder in pleasure.

"We have to be careful at school…" Kyle began, but his voice died off when Cartman ran the tip of his tongue slowly up his throat. He let loose an involuntary moan when the other boy's lips latched onto his skin and suckled.

"Come on." Cartman got up and grabbed Kyle's hand, pulling him up on his good leg.

"What?" Kyle snapped out of his daze. "Where are we-"

Cartman impatiently swung an arm behind his knees and yanked the smaller boy's body up into his grasp. Kyle grabbed Cartman around the neck, terrified he was going to get dropped onto the concrete.

It looked like Cartman was carrying him around to the back of the school.

Moses Cartman was strong…Kyle felt the muscles enfolding him to Cartman's chest. He was safe. Cartman might as well have been carrying a sack of potatoes.

They got behind the school and Cartman pushed him on his back against the stone wall. "Wait! Cartman-" Kyle's sentence was muffled by lips against his own.

_Fuck it. _Kyle kept his hold on Cartman's neck, kissing him back. His entire body felt like it was on fire. He unsteadily balanced on one leg, but he was glad Cartman had thought to brace him against the wall.

Cartman was kissing his neck again, pressing their bodies together. His hands were on Kyle's waist, their hips meeting and grinding against one another. Kyle moaned helplessly, resting his head on Cartman's shoulder. Cartman pressed against him harder, prompting a small cry from the smaller boy.

Kyle could hear his own breathing pick up and catch when he was rubbed against. His fingers clenched on Cartman's shoulders as blissful fire spread in his loins. Cartman hungrily captured his lips again, his hands cupping around Kyle's rear and forcefully lifting him off the ground.

Kyle instinctively wrapped his good leg around Cartman.

This was too fast. His head was spinning and it felt like all of his blood was redirected downward. "I want you to cum in your pants for me, you little jew bitch." Cartman snarled in his ear. Kyle couldn't think of a reply. He couldn't have answered the simplest question at that moment.

He moaned loudly when Cartman's tongue invaded his mouth. The larger boy's hips were bucking against him, his own were pressing back as if of their own accord.

Kyle was delirious, whimpering helplessly with each thrust of cloth against cloth. Some sweet cord was tightening in his groin, pulling his sanity with it. Cartman was kissing him roughly now, pulling his hat off and running his fingers through Kyle's red curls.

"_Kyle?!_"

They both froze. Kyle turned his head, his heart in his throat to see Stan gaping at him.


	15. Brownies and Burns

Alcorion – Hey, they're discovering passion. And since when has Cartman had any sense of diplomacy when it gets in the way of what he wants? XD Awesome reviews as usual!

Shit, this story isn't even a month old and it's already 15 chapters. Whew. I really do get on a roll!

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

_____

"Stan I want you to turn around and get your little bitch out of here." Cartman snarled, letting Kyle down slowly. The Jewish boy blushed and leant down to pick up his hat, wringing it in his hands.

"Stan…I can explain." He said quietly. He was still a little weak- kneed from the attention Cartman had given him, and put his hand on Cartman's shoulder to steady himself.

"I can't believe you would lead Henrietta on like this Kyle! Haven't you even considered her feelings?" Wendy burst out, glaring at the two of them.

"Shut up, bitch." Cartman sneered. "This is my Jew, no one else's. Screw her, and screw you."

"Cartman please!" Kyle put his hand on Cartman's chest and the larger boy quieted with a growl at Wendy.

"Dude…I don't understand." Stan was still shell-shocked. "I thought…I thought you were with Henrietta."

Cartman rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, but Kyle put his hand over Cartman's. The other boy growled and fell silent.

"Is this a gay thing or…" Stan sputtered, looking from Cartman to Kyle and back again. Kyle bit his lip and nodded.

"I'm with Cartman now." He said uneasily. He felt like hiding behind Cartman, but he had a feeling the larger boy would protect 'his Jew' anyway.

"With as in boyfriends with?" Stan blinked.

"It means we're together you stupid asshole! Like you and your hippy bitch!" Cartman roared angrily. Wendy gaped at him, clenching her hands around Stan's forearm.

"Are you going to let him get away with that?" she hissed at Stan.

Stan sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Cartman, stop being offensive. Kyle…we've been friends since kindergarten…and you were gay this whole time?" he asked in a low tone.

"No, he converted. Yes, he's gay, a ginger, and a Jew." Cartman rolled his eyes.

"God…sometimes I wonder if you have a soul, Cartman." Wendy said angrily.

"I can't believe you two were gay this entire time and I didn't notice." Stan rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "I don't have a problem with it…but you two…together? Cartman, this better be not some sort of scheme or I will rip your balls off."

"It's not a fucking scheme!" Cartman snarled.

"No offense Stan…but you're not the greatest when it comes to observations." Kyle said softly.

"I know, but for something to go in front of my eyes for almost thirteen years and not notice?" Stan let go of his nose and looked Kyle in the eye. "Kyle, you know you're always going to be my best friend…but I need time to accept this. I mean, I'm lucky my eyes aren't bleeding after turning a corner and seeing you two…" Stan struggled for a word and ended up sighing. "Just…let me work this out, ok? I'll see you later."

Before Kyle could say anything more, Stan turned and pulled Wendy off.

Kyle bit his lip and sank down to the ground, head in his hands. "I can't believe this…" he choked.

Cartman folded his arms, glaring after Stan. "I could totally go for kicking his ass right about now. Or at least Wendy's." he muttered.

"Wendy beat you up in the third grade, Cartman. Don't. You'll make it worse." Kyle whispered.

The bell rang for break and Cartman offered Kyle a hand. "Come on, Jew." He said. Kyle gently grasped it and let the other boy pull him to his feet. Cartman was about to start walking when Kyle pulled on his hand. "I can't walk on this thing, Cartman." He pointed out.

"What, you want me to carry you around like some chick?"

"You carried me here!" Kyle frowned.

"So?" Cartman let go of his hand, prompting Kyle to grab his shoulder to keep from falling over.

"Fatass, you are carrying me to my god damn crutches!" Kyle snapped.

"Jesus Jew, I didn't know you were going to be this clingy." Cartman smirked and started walking. Kyle held on for as long as he could before he was forced to hop along on one foot beside the large boy.

"I fucking hate you Cartman!" Kyle snapped when they came to a stop on the steps and Cartman handed him his crutches with a wide grin.

"Really? All I heard from you back there was…" Cartman grinned and shifted his voice into a higher pitch. "Ah, ah Cartman, please hump me harder!"

Kyle flushed red and smacked Cartman in the shoulder. "I didn't say your fucking name and I didn't ask you to…do that." He said sharply.

Cartman leaned in close, grinning. "You loved me grinding up against you. I could have turned you around and took your ginger cherry right there if Stan hadn't come." He whispered in Kyle's ear.

"Don't be disgusting!" Kyle elbowed him. "I guess I'll see you around..?"

"How about after school?"

"I have to go home at a sane hour today Cartman. My mom's been suspicious…pretty soon she's going to accuse me of getting drunk with Stan or taking drugs." Kyle said.

"Well…can I come over then Kahl?" Cartman said in the saccharinely sweet voice he used on people he wanted to manipulate.

"Cartman…" Kyle tilted his head back, sighing.

"Pleease?" Cartman's voice was going higher in pitch.

"Fine. But don't expect my mom to be happy. You did try and exterminate my people after all." Kyle said sternly. Cartman looked suitably satisfied…he'd gotten what he wanted. As usual. Cartman put his arms around Kyle as the other boy went to head back inside the school. Kyle shook his head and put his hand on Cartman's arm.

This did bring up some more confusing questions. He liked Cartman, they were becoming close…God, they'd just made out behind the school! If Cartman acted his affectionate around his mother, there would be no telling how Sheila Broflovski would react.

To tell the truth, Kyle hadn't seen Cartman be this gentle to someone since his mother.

Cartman released him. "Damn I'm hungry." He muttered, moving to walk inside. Just as he was about to open the doors he turned, snatched Kyle's hat off his head, and ran inside.

"God damn it Cartman!" Kyle roared, his curls falling around his face.

He pushed the door open angrily with his elbow and struggled inside to see Cartman at his locker, taunting him from down the hallway.

"Nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah, ha ha ha ha ha ha… I got your hat Kahl!" Cartman taunted.

"I'm going to break your legs with these crutches when I get ahold of you, you fat tub of lard!" Kyle shouted back.

___

Cartman smirked when the bell rang again to signal the end of break and Kyle rolled his eyes, grabbed his backpack, and headed off for his chemistry class. Cartman looked at the old green hat in his hands, leaning his back against his locker.

The little ginger was finally his. He nuzzled his face into the hat, smelling Kyle's scent. This was a good bargaining chip to make sure Kyle didn't jew him out of a night at the Broflovski residence. Kyle couldn't stand running around school with his jew-fro exposed for all to see.

He smiled and put the hat in his locker, spinning the combination and tugging on it to make sure it was secure. "There we go…" he grinned and picked up his own backpack. Multiple infractions of school rules had put him in Home Economics…presumeably to give him a better sense of how much women struggled in day to day life.

To Cartman, it just gave him an excuse to pay Wendy back for interrupting his chance of deflowering Kyle.

The girls gave him vicious looks as he sat down on one of the stools, dropping his book on his desk. He was seated next to Red, who scooted her stool away from him with a dangerous look. "I would tell you to go to hell, but gingers don't have souls." Cartman whispered to her.

Henrietta was actually supposed to be in this class, but she'd ditched every single one. But the girls took her absence as having some meaning today…they'd already assumed Kyle had broken up with her, and she was somehow heartbroken. At least, that was what Cartman gathered from the frantic whispering around him.

"Okay class," Ms. Choksondik drawled. "Today we're going to be baking brownies for the annual student bake sale. The person at your table is the person you're going to be paired with today. Just follow the recipe that's going around the class and you'll do fine. Red, I'm putting you in charge of the oven this time because Eric tried to push you in last time. Okay?"

Red nodded nervously, looking over at Eric. He grinned at her evilly.

Cartman was relatively bored for the rest of the class. He occupied himself with flicking brownie mix at Wendy, who was glaring daggers at him the entire time.

"Eric Cartman! Stop flicking batter at Ms. Testaburger or I'll have you sent to the school counselor!" Ms. Choksondik shouted.

"I'm sorry Ms. Choksondik…" Eric rolled his eyes and rested his head in his hand, letting Red fill the pan with the remaining batter and stick it in the oven.

Brownies were too damn easy. He could make them with his eyes closed. Besides, he didn't dare let the ginger anywhere near his culinary creations. Salt didn't belong in desserts. But he had to let her operate the oven or that fat old bitch would scream at him.

While the fifteen minute timer ticked away, Cartman spent his time reliving what had happened behind the school. Kyle was so innocent when it came to sex. Cartman had just been getting warmed up, and the other boy was already close to orgasm.

Cartman grinned. He had no doubt Kyle would be a wildcat when he finally got him in bed. It would be a while, but it would be worth it to watch Kyle buck and moan under him.

Cartman did want to date Kyle, but not in the traditional sense. Movies would be too god damn boring unless a theatre was going to re-show The Passion of the Christ or he dragged Kyle into some serial killer flick. Both guaranteed Kyle squirming in his seat and grabbing ahold of Cartman. Maybe he'd ask him.

The timer dinged.

Cartman beat Red to the oven. The girl had been startled out of texting on her phone by the noise.

"Back off bitch unless you want another toasting." Cartman growled when both their hands met on the oven door handle. She backed off and let Cartman take the brownies out of the oven. He placed them triumphantly on the table and slid off his oven mitts. "That's right, bitch." He whispered, smirking at Wendy who was looking at a blackened tray of batter she'd just pulled out of the oven.

"I thought hippies knew how to cook brownies, Wendy!" he taunted.

"Shut your mouth Cartman!" she growled back.

"Alright class let's see how they turned out. Eric, Red, you first." The teacher wound to the back of the room, where Eric had already neatly cut the brownies. He picked one out and handed it to her, smirking.

"Don't look so cocky Eric. Last time your cupcakes sent someone to the hospital." Ms. Choksondik chided.

"I believe that was Wendy." Cartman grinned.

"You spiked mine with bleach when I wasn't looking!" Wendy protested.

"Not my fault you can't cook some simple cupcakes Wendy." Cartman said, though his eyes were on the teacher when she nervously took a bite. He smirked and settled back when he saw the surprise on her face.

"This is very good Red…" Ms. Choksondik said quietly. "I'm giving you an A on this assignment. Eric, you took the brownies out without killing anyone so you get a C."

"AY! I cooked the god damn things!" Eric snarled. "She couldn't bake if her life depended on it!" he pointed at Red, who was blushing. Ms. Choksondik seemed happy to ignore Eric's protests as she went around grading the other students.

"She's lucky I don't stick her fat ass in an oven and make a roast." Eric growled under his breath.

____

"Mr. Broflovski please concentrate!"

"Sorry!" Kyle struggled to keep the experiment under control. Graham's Law of Diffusion…god, why did they have to handle ammonia to prove it?! The chemical stung his skin when he accidentally got it on his forearm above the lab gloves, and Stan wasn't helping.

"Ow! God damn it!" Kyle rushed to the sink, bathing his forearm in cool water while Stan slid the cotton swab inside the tube of ammonia.

"Broflovski, please get to the nurse! Those burns can be serious if they stay on your skin too long. You need a band aid." Mr. Stevens said, looking up from helping Kevin Stoley and Tweek with their projects.

Kyle looked at Stan apologetically as he slid off his goggles and hung up his apron, but his best friend wasn't looking at him. He hadn't spoken to him the entire day.

He headed to the nurse's office, sniffing at his arm. God it stung and burned like someone had dropped flaming sugar on his arm. Kyle was nervous…their nurse had her twin on her head. It wasn't a comforting sight to see when students were hurt.

Kyle hopped up on her table and sighed when she cleaned his arm and bandaged it. "Chemistry class?" she asked with a small smile. He nodded. "Yeah…I dropped ammonia on my arm." He explained, chewing on his lip. "I was distracted."

"By, if you don't mind me asking?"

"Can you keep a secret?" Kyle looked at her seriously. He needed someone to talk to. Stan wasn't speaking to him, Butters would blab to the entire school, and Eric wasn't the most sensitive person in the world.

The nurse nodded. "Anything you say here doesn't leave the room, sweetheart." She said, putting the bandages away.

"I'm dating Eric Cartman."


	16. It's Just a Little Poison, Kyle

Alcorion- I think Stan's uneasy stomach calmed down when he got older. It's pretty normal for kids to have sensitive stomachs that they grow out of. His brain does still run pretty slow. ~wink~ Wonderful review, I always look forward to you reading my chapters.

Note: I have a weird hobby…making homemade poisons.

_PLEASE DO NOT_ recreate any of the methods Cartman describes /performs without a fume hood, the proper ventilation and protection, and someone who knows what the hell they're doing. If you do stupid shit I take no responsibility for the outcomes. I will not give you the steps to making these poisons, and I'll describe the processes only vaguely or in part.

_You have been warned._

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

____

"No. No no. I'm driving." Kyle growled, folding his arms. Cartman scowled from the inside of the truck, and defiantly patted the driver's seat. "Slide over fatass." Kyle pressed. "You almost cracked my skull last time you drove."

"You've got a broken ankle you dumb Jew." Cartman shot back.

"It's my left leg, stupid. Everyone uses their right foot to drive. It's just going to be a bit more difficult, that's all." Kyle said, opening the back and pushing his crutches in.

Cartman glared and muttered, hopping out of the driver's seat and winding around to the passenger's seat. "If you crash my car, I'm going to kill you." Cartman growled, poking Kyle in the chest. Kyle rolled his eyes.

"I drive a lot better than you, asshole." Kyle said, climbing into the driver's seat and buckling in his seatbelt. He rearranged his leg on the left side and tested pressing both the gas and the brake lightly. He found he could do it, even if he did have to work around the cast on his foot. Cartman struggled with his seatbelt for a minute. Kyle looked over with a smirk. He was trying to pull it over his girth, which was still pretty considerable.

He must have gotten used to having the driver's side adjusted for him.

"Fucking short seatbelt…" he growled under his breath, adjusting it with a yank of his arm then clicking it in place. He folded his arm across his chest and looking over at Kyle. "Well then Kahl. Go ahead."

"Hold on a second." Kyle shifted the seat forward and adjusted the mirror.

"Are you ready yet, Driving Miss Daisy?"

Kyle rolled his eyes and pressed on the gas pedal gently, feeling the engine revving under his body.

"Put it in drive stupid!" Cartman yanked on the shift and the car leapt forward.

"Whoa!" Kyle slammed on the brake and Cartman lurched forward, placing his hands on the dashboard.

"Kyle I fucking hate you!" Cartman snarled. "Drive like a normal person!"

"I'm trying! I just got my license two months ago!" Kyle slowly pressed on the gas, both hands on the wheel. Cartman started snickering when the speedometer reached twenty five and held steady as Kyle drove.

"Kahl."

"What?" Kyle's eyes didn't leave the road.

"Why are you driving under sixty?"

"Because that's the speed limit, Cartman!" Kyle growled, gripping the steering wheel with white knuckles.

"…Are you nervous because I'm going to see your mom?" Cartman asked.

"Yes!" Kyle growled through gritted teeth. "And you better give me back my hat!"

"Your hat's in my backpack. I wanted to make sure you didn't jew me out of a night making fun of your mom." Cartman smirked.

"What makes you think you're staying over?" Kyle looked over at his new boyfriend, who was grinning evilly at him. "Cartman, if you think we're having sex you can just forget it. If our moms let you stay over, then you're going to sleep on the couch in the living room downstairs, and you're not going upstairs to molest me."

"I thought you were my boyfriend, Kahl." Cartman muttered.

"That doesn't mean you can do whatever you want to me!" Kyle said as he turned into his driveway, sighing and putting the explorer in park. He turned off the engine and rested his head on the top of the steering wheel.

"What are boyfriends for?" Kyle felt a hand up and down his back. "…Want to make out before you go into your mom's house?" Cartman whispered.

"No!" Kyle lifted his head from the steering wheel and sighed. "Hat. Now."

He heard rustling behind him and then felt a familiar object jammed onto his head. He rolled his eyes and pulled the key out of the ignition, straightening his hat on his head. He blinked when he saw something hanging from the key, glinting in the light.

"You have a swastika on your car keys?!" Kyle lifted the offensive symbol up by one of the black arms. It was steel, painted on one side with writing in German engraved on the back. "You can't pull these out in front of my mom. If you do she's going to fly into a shit fit. Get rid of it…I don't want to look at it either."

"Fuck you Kyle! My mom gave this to me." Cartman took the keys from Kyle and looked down at the silver dollar sized keychain sadly.

All of a sudden, Kyle felt like a complete asshole. He sighed. If it was that important to him…he'd let Cartman keep the symbol no matter how offensive it was to him. "Cartman…I'm sorry." He said softly. "I didn't mean it."

"Forget it. " Cartman pushed the keys in his pocket, opening the door and hopping out. "Come on."

Kyle hopped out of the car and shut the door, hearing Cartman lock it with a beep. "I can't have you Jews sniffing around my ride." Cartman muttered.

"Hold it. Cartman, before we go inside, I need to talk to you." Kyle said, grabbing Cartman's arm.

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Yes yes I know…no offensive language…no Jew jokes, and I can't make fun of the fact your mom is a big fat bitch." He said, folding his arms across his chest. Kyle nodded.

"Exactly." He said sternly. "No racist jokes of _any_ kind. My mom doesn't get it that it's just…well…it's you."

"Damn straight." Cartman smirked and Kyle sighed, pushing the door to his house open. Ike was on the couch watching hockey, but when he saw the two of them he raised an eyebrow. Kyle knew he'd be pulled aside later.

"Hey Cartman. Hi Kyle." Ike greeted them. Cartman took a look at the tv screen and bit his lip.

Kyle felt a small pang of pride knowing that Cartman was keeping his mouth shut. He was at least trying to help him out.

"Bubbe?"

Kyle saw his mom come out of the kitchen and her mouth open in shock.

"Mom, Cartman's going to stay over. Um…Stan's angry at me and Kenny's busy with a girl, so I invited him over to hang out. Is that ok?" Kyle bit his lip as his mom studied Cartman.

"Hello Ms. Broflovski. I'm glad to be invited to stay over in your fine home." Cartman said calmly, smiling winningly at Sheila.

"Well…if Kyle says it's alright. But I want you to behave, Eric, or I'm going to call your mother." Sheila Broflovski said. "Kyle, can I speak to you in the kitchen?"

Shit.

"Uh, I've got a lot of homework, Mom, and Cartman and I need to get started on that project." Kyle said nervously.

"Now, Kyle." She wasn't wavering on this.

"Mrs. Broflovski, Kyle is right. We do need to get our homework done. I mean, after what happened at school I don't think many of us have our minds on what needs to be done. We might all tank our grades." Cartman said solemnly.

"What do you mean, Eric?" Kyle's mother asked, surprised.

"Well…" Cartman shut his eyes and sighed. Normally it would anger Kyle to no end seeing Cartman manipulate his mother, but whatever she wanted to talk to him about in the kitchen was not going to be good. "…one of our classmates was poisoned today. Don't know how, don't know who did it. But whoever did it is still out there, Mrs. Broflovski. Stalking the hallways. Filling the brownies the Home Economics class made with arsenic oxide powder. We need to be alone Mrs. Broflovski. We need to grieve." Cartman put his arm around Kyle's shoulders and slowly led him upstairs, his head hung.

He shut the door carefully.

Kyle sat down on his bed. "Dude." He shook his head.

"Yes, yes I know I'm a genius." Cartman smirked and sat down next to Kyle. "Now be quiet and if she comes up and knocks, start crying. By the way, if you eat any brownies on Monday, eat some charcoal from the art room, one part magnesium oxide and one part taric acid. Just in case. Or avoid the brownie with the sprinkles."

"You were serious about the brownies?!" Kyle gaped.

"Well how else was the story going to be real? Jesus Kyle." Cartman rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, it's only in one brownie with brown sprinkles. I put the arsenic oxide in the sugar before I baked them."

"Dude!"

"It's eighteen hours till death. He'll be in a hospital before then. He's going to be fine." Cartman said dismissively.

"…Are you sure?" Kyle said, concerned. "I had no idea you were that good at chemistry."

"Kyle, you can make poisons out of just about anything. I got rid of one of my mother's boyfriends with three cigarettes and a strong cup of coffee." Cartman grinned. Kyle shook his head and sighed.

"Cartman. I know you can be a sick son of a bitch but…really? You killed a guy for sleeping with your mom?" he asked quietly.

"No, for breaking her nose and running out of the house. Pussy little bitch had the nerve to come back, too. One cup of coffee and he's shaking on the floor. He stops breathing, I dissolve his body and bury it in the back yard." Cartman said stiffly.

Kyle sighed and pulled his hat off. "Cartman, promise me you won't do anything like that anymore." He said, looking over at his boyfriend. "Please. I don't want to see you go to prison again. I mean, you didn't learn anything last time."

Cartman put his arm around Kyle's shoulders, kissing his cheek. "Whatever, Jew. Just know that if anyone fucks with you, you can borrow my…special cookbook." He smirked.

"Good. You can help me on my chemistry homework, and then we can ask if you can sleep over." Kyle said.

Cartman rolled his eyes and pulled Kyle closer, kissing the back of his neck. "Cartman…" Kyle warned.

"You're so tense Kyle." Cartman brought his hands up and gently started rubbing Kyle's shoulder muscles. Kyle sighed softly as the warm hands rubbed and stroked his hard shoulder muscles into relaxation.

"Cartman…we need to work on homework." Kyle said softly, letting his head roll back when Cartman rubbed up and down the back of his neck. Cartman's strong hands were making him into putty.

Kyle shook him off and picked his backpack up. "Cartman, I really appreciate the massage but we need to study. I've got a test on…diffusion I think it's called and if you're really that good at chemistry then I need you to help me." He said.

"Meeeeeh…" Cartman whined, nuzzling his face into Kyle's neck.

"Cartman, now." Kyle said. "You're not going to worm your way out of this! Help me study…if you do, I'll let you stay over."

"Meeeeeeeh…" Cartman whined in a higher pitched voice, but one look at Kyle's face made him sigh and pull the chemistry book so he could read what Kyle was studying. "God dammit." He muttered under his breath. "That'll work on you soon enough, my little jew-rat."

"Right, whatever." Kyle smiled, settling back against Cartman's chest and listening to him breathe.

"Can Jews do anything? God. This is like the easiest chapter in the book!" Cartman protested, flipping through the pages.

Kyle just smiled and looked up at his study partner. "Fuck you, fatass."


	17. Sleeping on the Floor

Alcorion- Personally, Cartman knowing chemistry scares the hell out of me XD It's the one skill that mostly creates dangerous shit and poisons. I figured Kyle would drive adhering to the rules of the road, because while he does challenge some authority figures, he is extremely logical. Also, I really love Cartman's little 'meeeeh' whine, so I had to stick that in there.

Taeniacide- I looked at your profile, and you'll be happy to know I have two loving snakes XD Umlaut, a male pinstripe ball python, and Tobaan, a male Mexican Black Kingsnake. I believe that Cartman got his Nazi tendencies from both his sociopathic way of thinking and his mother's beliefs. Leanne makes a lot of racist comments throughout the show, and Cartman seems to pick up on it and later in the series believes it himself.

Simply anonymous – thanks for the review! I thought they were cute together too ^.^

Ironically, the word 'tzimmes' is sometimes used in Yiddish to mean making a huge fuss about something.

Rig

Note: Warning about the poisons mentioned from here on out. Don't do it. I'm seriously.

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

____

"I don't get it." Kyle stared at the chemical formula Cartman had scrawled out on his book.

"Jew, the easiest way to get these experiments is to do them, but I thought since you were good at math you'd figure this out." Cartman set the book down.

"But this isn't straight forward, with numbers!" Kyle protested.

"It's just got symbols, for Christ's sake Kahl." Cartman said, looking at the clock. Kyle growled in frustration. After they'd gotten all their other homework done, they'd returned to Kyle's chemistry homework. No matter how patiently Cartman explained it, Kyle just didn't get it.

"Just copy off of me before school starts…and I get to copy your math homework." Cartman grinned at Kyle.

"Fine, fatass." Kyle muttered, shutting the book and tossing it onto his desk. "I'm sick of this chemistry crap anyway."

"So…"

Kyle turned back to see Cartman's face inches from his own.

"…where do I sleep?" Cartman purred.

"It's six o'clock, Cartman!" Kyle narrowed his eyes. "We should go downstairs for dinner."

"I don't eat Jew food." Cartman said. "Can we have BLTs or something?"

"That's pork, Cartman!" Kyle rolled his eyes. "We don't eat pork." He hopped down from the bed, yelping when he felt a hand on his rear.

"_Cartman!" _ Kyle grabbed ahold of his bed for balance.

"What? I can't paw your tight little ginger ass either?" Cartman frowned, folding his arms and looking genuinely perplexed. Kyle grabbed his crutches.

"Look, I'm still figuring this whole you and me thing out." Kyle said. "You pawing me makes me a little uncomfortable, ok? It's hard to get rid of thirteen years of you trying to kill me."

Cartman rolled his eyes and slid off the bed. "Kahl, unless you just man up and get used to it, you're always going to be uncomfortable." He said quietly, approaching Kyle and putting his hands on Kyle's waist.

"My mom's going to come up soon." Kyle looked at the door.

"Your brother will keep her occupied." Cartman said, pulling Kyle closer and lowering his lips onto the other boy's. This time, Kyle gave in with very little resistance, even pulling Cartman a little closer. "Mm…no Stan this time…" Cartman said quietly, breaking the kiss and paying attention to Kyle's throat.

Kyle felt Cartman's hands roam to the hem of his shirt, one staying to rub his stomach while the other snaked up to his chest. His breath hitched when Cartman rubbed a thumb over his right nipple. "Keep quiet Kahl. You don't want your mom to see this." He purred in Kyle's ear, twisting his grip under the ginger's shirt.

Kyle shuddered and moaned. "Eric…" he whispered softly.

"I don't see you shoving me off this time." Cartman said softly, twisting Kyle's flesh a little harder.

Kyle bent his head and nuzzled the side of Cartman's neck, experimentally planting kisses every inch or so along the flesh. How was Cartman making him twitch just with a hand on his chest. The hand on his stomach was lowering, teasing him with light touches around the waistband of his pants. "Cartman…my mom's downstairs…" Kyle started to protest again, and the hand dove down and grasped him.

Cartman's touch burned, the fire stoked every time his fingers rose up and down on Kyle's shaft. Kyle kissed the small area between Cartman's neck and shoulder, fingers rising to grasp his boyfriend's sweater. "Oh God…" Kyle whispered, pushing his hips against Cartman's hand. Just as his moans were reaching higher and higher pitch the hand withdrew.

"Well, guess we better get down to dinner. I'm tired of studying." Cartman pecked Kyle's astonished lips and took a look at him before exiting the room and heading downstairs. Kyle sat on the bed before he lost his balance, his pink blush of arousal turning dark with rage. How dare Cartman toy with him like this and then just _leave_?!

When he finally got down the stairs, slowly and agonizingly, he saw Cartman sitting patiently at the dinner table. He looked like nothing had happened! Not even a hint of flushed skin or sweat!

Kyle laid his crutches against the dining room wall angrily and sat down across from Cartman. If looks could kill the large boy's head would have exploded. "I hate you so much!" Kyle risked snarling across the table. Ike sat next to Cartman, looking from his brother's flushed and disheveled appearance to Cartman's spotless one. Kyle turned his death glare on Ike. "What?!" he demanded.

"Oh nothing, nothing at all." Ike said, looking up when Mr. and Mrs. Broflovski came in. Gerald looked a bit surprised to see Cartman in his usual seat, hands folded. "Uh…Kyle didn't tell me he was having you over, Eric." Gerald said, sitting next to Kyle and pulling an extra chair over for his wife.

"We were working on a project, Mr. Broflovski." Cartman said, examining the food with a critical eye. "What's this?" he asked, a bit of disgust creeping into his tone. Kyle folded his arms. What a stupid ass! After years of watching Kyle eat his packed kosher lunches, he still couldn't identify Jewish food to save his fat rear.

"It's holishkes and tzimmes, Cartman. Stuffed cabbage leaves and stew." Kyle explained sourly. He saw a small look of disgust pass over Cartman's features when a plate of holishkes and a small bowl of tzimmes was set in front of him.

"I don't usually eat Jew food." Cartman poked at one of the holishkes with a fork. "It looks like a green eggroll."

"It's called kosher, Eric." Mrs. Broflovski corrected.

"Right, Jew food." Cartman brought a tiny piece of the cabbage to his mouth, chewing it slowly and deliberately.

"Cartman just eat before I throw a fork at you." Kyle snapped.

"I move to second that motion." Ike piped up, a forkful of cabbage leaf halfway to his mouth.

"Everyone be quiet and just eat." Mrs. Broflovski said sharply.

Kyle was somewhat surprised to find that once Cartman got past the initial disgust phase of trying the food, he shoveled it in quite quickly. He knew better than to question Cartman's appetite, but it looked for a few minutes like the racist was enjoying it.

Kyle sighed and bit into his own food, waiting until Cartman was on his second bowl of tzimmes to bring up staying the night. "Mom?" he asked, setting his fork down on his empty plate.

"Yes Bubbalah?" Mrs. Broflovski said, eyeing Cartman as he shoveled the last few holishkes down his throat.

"Cartman's mom is out of town again. We wanted to know if he could stay the night and sleep on the couch or something?" Kyle asked. He saw his mother considering it, but she was clearly flattered by Cartman's silent appraisal of her cooking.

"Well…are you sure your mother's gone Eric?" she asked him stiffly. He nodded. "Alright…but only for tonight. He's sleeping in your room Kyle, just like your other friends do." She finished with a sigh. "I don't feel comfortable with you wandering around our home, Eric."

Cartman's grin couldn't have gotten wider. Kyle cursed under his breath.

"Of course Mrs. Broflovski. Kahl and I will go get my sleeping bag right away." Cartman stood and grabbed his plate, heading to the kitchen and setting it in the sink. Kyle rolled his eyes and stood up, grabbing his crutches.

Once they were outside Kyle kicked Cartman with his good leg. "Laying it on a little thick weren't you?" he growled.

"It worked. I get to sleep in your room Kyle. And don't think it's going to be in a sleeping bag." Cartman grinned. "Now go inside and speak to your mother. I'll go get my stuff."

Kyle glared, but looked back at the house. His mother was giving him a meaningful look. "Alright fatass." He said. "But bring a sleeping bag because you're on the floor."

He watched Cartman get into his car and peel out of the driveway in reverse. Then he sighed and headed back in, following his mother straight to the kitchen. She had a scowl etched on her face.

"Kyle, I thought I told you not to get near the Cartman boy again. His mother is a horrible person, and he tried to have our people exterminated. I don't want him in this household again, homework or no homework. Next time, ask Mr. Garrison if you can be assigned a different partner." She started sternly.

"Mom, he's not that bad." Kyle began, but choked off the rest of his argument when his mother's scowl turned into the same death glare he'd been giving Cartman earlier.

"Not that bad?! Kyle, he's a dangerous boy and you're to stay away from him!" Sheila said angrily.

"Mom-"

"You're going to do as I say Kyle, with no ifs ands or buts!" Sheila growled. "That boy deserves to be alone! If his mother finally decided to move on without him then she made one good decision in her miserable life."

Kyle stared at his mother. Leanne Cartman, for all her career shortcomings, was a very nice person. She'd never been cruel to himself, Stan or Kenny, and certainly not to Cartman. If anything, he'd never seen a mom more devoted to pleasing her son. Of course, Cartman's manipulation tactics didn't help.

But she didn't deserve that sort of slander.

"Leanne's a good person, mom!" Kyle snapped. "And Cartman is too…he just doesn't show it!"

"As if I'd ever be inclined to believe that! Now up to your room Kyle! You and the Cartman boy can just go straight to sleep with no TV or video games." Sheila said sharply, pointing with a finger out of the kitchen.

Kyle glared at her.

"Now, Kyle!"

"Yes ma'am." Kyle sneered between gritted teeth, gripping his crutches so hard he could feel the metal under the rubber grips.

____

"Don't stop…believin'…" Cartman sang to himself as he packed an extra change of clothes, his toothbrush and toothpaste, and a small tube of lube in his backpack. It was nice having a car. He could just dump all his books in his room and run back before Kyle figured out he wasn't going to take no for an answer. He grabbed his laptop as well…he had a few good gory flicks on it and he wasn't going to pass up a chance to keep Kyle up all night.

He smirked to himself as he zipped up the backpack and slung it over his back. He passed his mother's room and frowned. Better leave a note outside the door to any potential clients. He did have a safe word with most of them that warned them not to come to the house. Cartman snatched the lid from an old pizza box and scrawled quickly on it with a pencil.

He stuck the sign on top of his welcome mat, locked up the house, and headed back to his car. Let any of his classmates who wandered over figure out what '411' meant.

Cartman whistled the five minute drive to Kyle's house, pulling up quickly and grabbing his backpack. "Oh you are mine tonight you sneaky little Jew." He chuckled and knocked on the door.

Ike pulled it open, raising an eyebrow. "You look too happy not to be up to something. I hear a scream and I call the police." He said flatly as he let Cartman in.

"Go make some maple syrup or something, flap-head." Cartman said nonchalantly, shouldering his backpack.

"That's Vermont, stupid." Ike growled when Cartman made his way up the stairs, whistling happily. He'd keep an eye out for his brother just in case Cartman didn't have anything benign in mind.

After all, if he didn't look after his brother's virginity, who would?


	18. Kosher Sausage

Alcorion- She's a big fat bitch, she's biggest bitch in the whole wide world, she's a stupid bitch if there ever was a bitch she's a bitch to all the boys and girls! XD Dammit, now you've got the song stuck in my head!

Call me SiCK- I love how the number one comment I get is how often I update XD That wasn't sarcastic. I really don't like authors who don't update for three months…it's not really fair to the readers. I understand the muse sometimes deserts us all, but if you've got a good story, roll with it!

Randomstrike- Thank you! I wonder how a plot will turn out when I _don't_ write it off the cuff.

Anonymous person thing- Well…he might, later. I've always felt like Cartman's too much of a controlling fuckhead to let Kyle do that. But we shall see.

Rig

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

___

Kyle lay in bed, hat still on, covers pulled over one shoulder. He couldn't believe his mother just sending him to bed without any hanging out time. He needed that to decompress after homework…she knew that. He got stressed too easily without it.

Footsteps up the stairs…that still irked him. He frowned against his pillow. Why would Cartman walking up his stairs bother him? It was just a little feeling at the back of his mind, but it wasn't going away any time soon. In fact, it seemed to be growing into a general feeling of unease whenever he heard that noise.

His door opened and he heard Cartman drop his things on the floor, then the rustling of cloth.

He frowned when he felt a large weight on his bed, then arms around him.

"Cartman. I told you…you're on the damn floor." Kyle said, his shoulders hunched. He felt the covers drawn back and radiating heat press up against his back. "…are you wearing anything?" Kyle asked suddenly, feeling the other boy's arm snake around his stomach.

"Why don't you pat me down and tell me what you think?" Cartman said softly, kissing his shoulder.

"Cartman! At least _I'm_ wearing pajama pants!"

"Not for long." He felt Cartman's hands at the waistband of his pajamas. Kyle slapped his hands angrily and turned over to face him, purposely rolling on Cartman's arm. It frustrated him that Cartman seemed pleased with his actions.

"I told you, I don't want to yet. We've been together what…a few days? Less?" he whispered at Cartman.

"I didn't say I was going to roll you over and fuck you." Cartman said bluntly. "Don't you know anything, Jew?"

Kyle looked at Cartman suspiciously. "You're going to try though." He said. "And don't blame me if I haven't exactly had sex. It's normal! I mean, Butters hasn't had sex."

"Butters couldn't get a dog to fuck him if he had ears and a tail." Cartman grinned. "I'll have to try that one on him. Is Stan's dog still fucking anything that moves?"

"Don't you dare Cartman. You tortured him enough when we were little…and that idea is disgusting." Kyle muttered, pulling the covers up over them both. "Besides, your first time should be special. Romantic. Not up here trying to be quiet with my parents and little brother downstairs."

Cartman rolled his eyes. "My first time wasn't romantic. I got punched across the mouth, bent over the couch and there you go." He settled himself down a bit more comfortably on his side, reclaiming his arm from under Kyle. It was nice, curled up in bed like this with more than Clyde Frog to talk to.

He looked up to see Kyle was staring at him with both shock and an overwhelming look of pity. "You're not lying, are you?" Kyle said softly.

"No. Hurt like hell. But my point is, romance is overrated and it never goes anywhere but the same conclusion…the bedroom, then people argue and they leave one another. It's life." Cartman stumbled a bit over his words, trying to get Kyle to leave the subject alone.

"Someone raped you, Cartman…that's not romance or even sex." Kyle said quietly. "How long ago?"

"Kahl, that slipped out and you really, really don't want to go into that subject." Cartman said, chilling his tone a little bit. Kyle saw he needed to back off. Cartman wasn't ready to talk about it.

"Okay. But you understand, right? I'm not ready. I like kissing with you…you touching me. But I don't want to have full-blown sex until we've been together for a while, ok?" Kyle said, biting his lip.

"Everything's black and white to you, isn't it? Don't you ever look at porn? There's a shit load we can do without actually having sex. I could finger you, suck you. Lots more if you're into it." Cartman said, watching Kyle flush pink.

"…And you don't see something gross about that?" Kyle said. "Putting someone's dick in your mouth?" Personally the thought repulsed Kyle…it just seemed too degrading.

"No, actually." Cartman grinned and raised himself up on his arms, looming over Kyle. He kissed his shoulder and across his collarbone. "Let me show you. Lay on your back for me." He pulled Kyle's pajama pants down, kicking them to some unknown corner of the bed.

Kyle uneasily laid on his back, looking up at what little he could see of Cartman. The other boy kissed him softly, gently, his hands on either side of Kyle's head. Cartman swung a leg over him and straddled his body with his knees and hands, obviously afraid of putting his full weight on Kyle.

Kyle kissed back awkwardly, putting his arms around Cartman's neck. Cartman let him do so for only a few minutes, and then Kyle felt Cartman's head slip out from under his arms.

The Jewish boy appreciated the way Cartman was handling him, kissing his chest slowly. It felt better in a bed, warm and comfortable with the covers over Cartman's back. He felt a small, wet heat lap at the left side of his chest and gasped. He looked down in the darkness to see Cartman's head bent down, his tongue lapping against one of his nipples.

Kyle brought a hand up to his mouth, muffling a moan. His nipples seemed hardwired directly to his cock…when Cartman moved to the other nipple and gave it an affectionate nip, his cock jumped on his stomach. "God…" Kyle moaned, his white teeth bearing down on his knuckles.

He forced his eyes to stay open, watching Cartman bite and lick at two of the most sensitive parts of his body. Cartman's eyes looked up and met his…Kyle thought he looked nearly demonic in the moonlight. Dominant and in control, making Kyle twitch to every movement of his mouth.

"Time to make you put a little more effort into keeping your mouth shut." Cartman whispered, and lowered his head. Kyle's stomach muscles tightened when the wet flame lapped over them. It felt good, almost to the point where Kyle wanted to start giggling. It was like being tickled, but pleasantly so. He arched his back a little, squirming when the sensations began directing themselves downward.

Cartman was disappearing under the covers. Kyle was torn between wanting to watch what he was doing to make his body go insane like this, and letting it remain a taunting mystery. He lifted the covers and threw them back, his breathing picking up when Cartman nipped at his hip. "You're making me cold, Jew." Cartman pulled the covers up to his shoulders, and then looked up at Kyle.

The jew-rat was flushed, eyes half-closed. Emerald glinted down at him, begging him to do more than lick. Teasing ringlets were peeking from underneath Kyle's hat, red even in this low light. Kyle leaned his head back when Cartman experimentally blew on the place he'd nipped; satisfied that Kyle now bore a love-bite on the soft skin.

Kyle was squirming in want. Cartman could see the other boy's cock bouncing slightly with his heartbeat. "Please…" Kyle whimpered around his fist, his voice barely audible. God, it turned him on to hear the Jew beg for it. "I couldn't hear that, Kahl." Cartman whispered, making sure his breath fell on the sensitive organ inches from his lips.

"Please..." Kyle begged a little louder, lifting his hips off the bed.

"Not yet." Cartman nuzzled further between Kyle's legs, pleased to see the Jew was clean shaven between his legs. "Mm…you shaved under here." He purred, letting his tongue snake out and touch one of Kyle's balls.

He heard a loud cry hurriedly bit off above him. "I…I don't like hair..." Kyle whispered, his voice strained. Cartman's tongue dragged up the velvety pouch, his hand straying down to Kyle's hip to keep him down. The other boy was squirming, making little cries under his breath. Cartman smirked. He hadn't even touched the Jew's cock yet. He felt his own cock drooling pre-cum onto the sheets, pinned between his stomach and the bed.

Cartman let his tongue go up further, dragging up the underside of Kyle's shaft. He stopped at the tip only a moment before sliding his mouth over it. He was lucky he was pressing Kyle's hips down, because Kyle gave a choked cry and bucked his hips up.

Cartman looked up. He head his head rolled back onto the pillow; the hat had fallen off somewhere and his curls were framing his face, which was twisted in ecstasy. He lowered his head down farther, sliding Kyle deep into his throat.

Kyle reacted by grabbing Cartman's head, his fingers twisting through his short brown hair. The touch wasn't gentle. Cartman growled around the organ in his throat, and was rewarded by the fingers relaxing and another twitch from Kyle.

"Eric…" Kyle whined, pushing at Cartman's head. When the heel of Kyle's hand pushed into his eye Cartman raised his head up off of Kyle's member, glaring at him.

"What the hell was that for?" Cartman growled.

"I was going to…in your mouth." Kyle breathed softly. Cartman didn't say another word, but ducked his head between Kyle's legs again. He wasn't surprised to see that Kyle lasted only a few seconds before he felt warm, salty spurts in the back of his mouth.

Cartman kissed Kyle's leg, grinning up at him.

"How was that Kahl?" he asked. "…Kahl?"

Cartman rose up on his arms and slid off of Kyle, crawling up and laying next to Kyle. "Jew-rat!" he snapped at the nearly comatose boy.

"What did you do to me…" Kyle moaned softly, nuzzling his face into Cartman's chest.

"Mm…and you get to return the favor when you spend the night at my house tomorrow." Cartman said, grinning.

"Mkay." Kyle whispered, half-asleep. Cartman stroked his back until he heard snoring, then closed his own eyes. He pulled the Jew close to his chest, kissing the top of his head. "You're mahne, Kahl. Little prude bitch." He whispered affectionately.

___

Kyle woke to the feel of icy cold and the burn of old carpet on his cheek. "What the…" he turned on his back and sat up, rubbing the red mark sleeping on the floor had given his face. "Cartman you asshole! You dumped me out of the bed!" he shouted, eyes narrowed. He looked down at himself. His head wasn't the only cold thing. He saw his pajama pants crumpled up and sticking out of the bottom of the bed. He snatched them and struggled into them.

Cartman mumbled in his sleep and turned over, pulling the covers with him. "Get up your lard and blanket burrito self out of my fucking bed!" Kyle snarled, grabbing ahold of the headboard and pulling himself up. His ankle ached a bit, and he felt woozy.

"Once I get my insulin you are dead meat you prick!" Kyle punched Cartman's side.

"Hippehs…all around me…singing Beatles songs…get it away…" Cartman mumbled, burrowing his head under Kyle's pillow.

"I hate you." Kyle snapped, hopping to the bathroom and opening his kit.

"Kaahl…" Cartman whined from the bedroom.

Kyle pushed the plunger down on the syringe and discarded it in the trash. He walked back into the bedroom and sat on the bed, folding his arms. "I can't believe you dumped me out of bed in the middle of the night." He growled.

Cartman slid his arms around Kyle's waist and pulled him down. "Shutmgobed…." Cartman muttered, kissing his cheek. Kyle shoved his arms off.

"You're still naked in my bed! Get up and get dressed before my mom comes to wake us up for school, Cartman!" Kyle snarled, pushing at Cartman.

"Meeeeeh." The big lump of bedsheets whined.

"Get the fuck up or I'm going to douse your head with water!" Kyle snapped.

"Meeeeeeeeeh." Cartman whimpered.

"That's it, you get the water." Kyle moved to get up from the bed, but Cartman reattached to his waist. Kyle sighed and rolled his eyes. "I'll make you breakfast if you get out of my bed and get dressed." He mumbled, conceding defeat.

"Morning Kyle." Cartman sat up, grinning. "Bacon, sausage and pancakes please."

"That's pork, fatass." Kyle snapped. "I'll make you a Jewish breakfast and you're going to like it." Come to think of it, they probably had some kosher chicken sausage, and pancakes were perfectly fine, but he felt Cartman deserved some sort of punishment for kicking him out of bed.

"No Jew food or I come down naked." Cartman kissed the back of his neck. Kyle planted one hand on Cartman's face and shoved him away.

"Kosher, or my mom throws you _out_ naked. I can't believe you did that to me last night." He hissed, as if afraid someone would hear.

"You were begging me." Cartman looked extremely self satisfied. "Go on, make me some food like a nice Jew wife."

Kyle glared. "Fuck you." He pulled Cartman's arms off and stood up with the help of his crutches, heading downstairs. He made Cartman some pancakes and chicken sausage anyway…he knew the large boy would be perfectly content with carrying out his threat.

"Let's watch a movie." Cartman suggested as he came downstairs, dressed but barely awake.

"We have to go to school Cartman." Kyle snapped, setting a plate in front of Cartman and sitting down at the table with his own.

"Give me the phone. The first thing you have to learn about living with me, Kahl, is you don't have to _do_ anything." Cartman grinned.


	19. Shattering Hearts and Noses

Alcorion – Well…gay men write the best sex scenes for gay men, IMHO. Thanks though! I always feel like it's awkward when I'm writing it.

Simply anonymous – Oh c'mon, it's Cartman. It has to be something nefarious XD

Nineteen! And it's still not a month old. ~dramatic pose~ Let's see if we can get this thing to 50,000 by three months. Shit's gonna blow up in this chapter.

Rig

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

____

"Ah yes Principal Victoria. This is Eric Cartman…I'm afraid Kyle Broflovski and I are both very sick. We won't be coming to school today. What? No I didn't give him a disease. How silly of you to think that." Cartman said on the phone, cutting up his food delicately. "Butters is out of school too? Hell's Pass Hospital? Mm. No, I don't believe I know anything about that. I wasn't baking brownies that day. Right. Well have a good day Principal Victoria." He smirked and shut off the phone, laying it on the table and beginning to shovel food in his mouth.

"Pheese of fuckin' make…" he said around the wad of food in his cheeks.

Kyle ate his food quietly. "Butters ate the brownie you poisoned?" he said softly. "Cartman…we need to go give him the antidote you told me about. It's not right leaving him to suffer. It's not like this is one of those third graders always pissing in the water fountain. It's Butters."

Cartman rolled his eyes.

"Cartman please." Kyle said, biting his lip. "I don't feel right eating breakfast knowing he's coughing up his own kidneys or something."

"Fine. Stupid Jews always feeling pity for stupid crap…just like hippies." Cartman muttered, finishing his food in record time. "We've got to go to my house first to get the stuff. Then we go to the hospital. It's a bit of a ways from my house." He picked up his plate and went to go put it in the sink.

Kyle nodded. "Thank you. I know they're a little ways from here…but I'm happy you're going to do something right for once." He smiled at Cartman. "I forgot to thank you…for last night."

Cartman turned on him with a glare on his face. "Don't ever thank me. Ever. It's cheap." He growled in Kyle's face, taking out his keys. "Let's go."

Kyle was putting his crutches in the back of Cartman's car when he saw Ike gesturing to him to come into the garage. "Um…go get the medicine, and we'll park your car here and walk there. I need to exercise my leg anyway." He told his boyfriend, who rolled his eyes.

"Fine, fine." Cartman mumbled when Kyle awkwardly put some weight on his ankle, limping in a frankensteineseque fashion into the garage. Wierdly, it didn't hurt as much as it had in the past. Maybe the bone was on the mend faster than expected?

The only bad thing was it was similar to having a ball and chain on one foot.

"You guys are fucking crazy." Ike hissed when they were in private. "You've got balls, but you're fucking crazy. I can't believe you did that in the house."

Kyle blushed as red as his hair.

"Mom came by the room and heard you! Didn't you guys wonder why she didn't wake you up? She's with the Rabbi…she was crying this morning." Ike said angrily. "I know this is new for you both, but if you don't get wise real fast about this thing Mom's going to kill Cartman. You may have already screwed it up for yourselves."

Kyle stared. "She…she's talking with the Rabbi?" he asked.

"Yes! About how she should fix you. She was convinced Cartman was molesting you. You are so god damn lucky she didn't tell Dad." Ike folded his arms. "Go. Get out of the house until I can work on Mom. I can't save you from her dragging you to the Rabbi for therapy or something, but I can do some damage control."

Kyle sighed. Moses…he'd made a terrible mistake letting Cartman sleep in bed with him. Even worse, to let him do…that. He'd told Cartman he wasn't ready for things like that! Of course, Cartman just ignored everything that didn't suit him. As usual. "Thanks Ike." Kyle said with a sigh.

"Don't mention it. I seem to exist to keep your brain screwed on straight, guy." Ike said affectionately. "So, was it good?" His brother's face twisted into a perverted grin.

"Ike! You're too young to-"

"I lost my virginity at three years old, Kyle." Ike said flatly.

Kyle ran his hand over his face. "Ok…it was really, really good. I didn't know someone could, uh, do that to a person." He said, his blush deepening in shade. "I mean, first we kissed and he just sort of slid down my body."

Ike laughed. "You're so naive. It's a blowjob. Just don't get sucked into it. Remember what you told me when we were little? Your first love may seem like the only love in the world. Perhaps you and Cartman were meant for one another, maybe you weren't. Just keep in mind all the stuff he's done." He cautioned. "I trust you, friend, but I'll step in if he hurts you."

Kyle nodded. "Again, thanks." He patted his brother on the back and headed back outside, leaving Ike to whatever angry fate their mother had in store for them.

____

"Starting to regret walking, Jew?" Cartman grinned as they walked down the street. Cartman had the antidote mixed up and in a jar in his backpack, and Kyle had insisted on exercising his leg. The Jew must have been tired of keeping his leg straight, but seeing him drag it around was pretty funny.

"No, I'm not." Kyle grunted as they walked through the town. He saw a pawn shop with a bench outside and gratefully sat down, breathing heavily. Cartman sat next to him. "Just a rest. Five minutes." Kyle said, looking at the shop window.

Cartman saw him stop and stare.

"Those…that can't be! That's one of my mom's plates in the window! The ones that got stolen from our house!" Kyle struggled up and before Cartman could stop him, headed into the pawn shop.

"Sir! Where'd you get the bone china in the window? It was stolen from my home around two weeks ago." Kyle asked the clerk in a rush, his hands on the counter. The man looked up, then at the window. He narrowed his eyes when he saw Cartman staring through the display at him.

"Tell the fat kid we don't give merchandise back. He sells it to us, we sell it on. No takebacks." The clerk said dismissively. "Nice story though."

Kyle blinked, confused. "What? No, sir, you don't understand. My mom got those for a wedding present and someone stole them from my-"

"Yeah yeah. Tell the fat kid to fuck off. He sold us a shitload of business that day, and my boss is holding out for some old biddy to come buy the plates so he can make a profit. If the fat kid wants them back, he's gotta pay that price. Not my fault he was stupid enough when we told him they were fake." The clerk snapped.

Something in Kyle's head clicked. The footsteps on the stairs that night…that was why he'd felt so uncomfortable when he heard Cartman coming up and down stairs.

It was Cartman that night, robbing their home. The reason he'd not kept up teasing him about the robbery. Cartman had left him there when he'd broken his leg…Cartman had stolen his family's property. He'd made his mother cry.

She'd been right. Cartman was nothing but a fat, racist, manipulative little shit!

Their relationship, new as it was, was nothing but a sham!

Somehow the second fact hurt more. Kyle felt tears well up in his eyes, mimicking the rage and hurt that constricted his heart and made it hard to breathe. His teeth clenched so hard he thought they might shatter. Silently he turned and made for the door, his vision blurred by the salt water stinging his eyes. How dare he think that Cartman could ever change?

The other boy stood up when he saw Kyle come out of the shop. "Let's move it Jew. I'm tired of waiting for your handicapped-" Cartman ever got the rest of the sentence out. Kyle's fist had gotten a direct blow to his face, and before he could stop reeling from the first, the Jew followed up with a second. Cartman fell onto his back on the concrete, grunting. "What the fuck, Jew?!" he shouted.

"You unbelievable…bastard." Kyle sobbed, tears streaming down his face. "You were there that night! You saw me break my ankle and you just left! You stole my parents' things! You hospitalized Butters and you…you…" Kyle couldn't speak anymore. The weight on his heart was just too much. He stood there, shaking, crying, choking in air when his windpipe clenched and unclenched.

Cartman gingerly felt his face. It felt like Kyle had broken his nose.

"I tried to help you! I cleaned your house…I let you sleep with me…now my mother thinks I'm an abomination…Stan won't talk to me…" Kyle wiped his eyes angrily, blinking away the tears rapidly so he could see Cartman's face. There was no emotion there. Cartman was just staring back at him from the sidewalk, covering his nose with a hand.

"I understand why your mom left you. She couldn't take it anymore! Your manipulation…the fact that you don't give a shit for anyone's feelings!" Kyle continued, swallowing to try and breathe properly. "I'm going to the hospital…and I'm going to fix Butters…I'm going to tell him what you did. Give me the bag."

Cartman shook his head, eyebrows furrowing. "Fuck you, Jew." He snapped.

"Give me the fucking bag Cartman!" Kyle shrieked so loudly Cartman heard his vocal cords strain and turn rough.

He'd never seen Kyle this angry before. Silently he handed the other boy the bag. Kyle snatched it. "If you ever come near me again…I'm going to kill you." Kyle said, his voice low. Cartman saw him hobble past, the sounds receding.

He sighed and got up when he heard Kyle go a safe ways away. "Fuck." He took his hand away from his nose, seeing blood. What Kyle had said about his mother hurt. It hurt like someone had ripped out his heart. "I'm gonna have to fucking fix this now, aren't I?" he mumbled.

____

"Butters? Butters it's me. Wake up. The doctors let me in to see you." Kyle said softly, wiping his eyes for the hundredth time on that walk. Butters looked pale…the boy had always been skinny, womanly even, but now he just looked plain unhealthy. He had dark circles around his eyes and his normally fluffy blond hair was matted with sweat.

Butters opened his large, expressive aqua eyes. "Kyle?" he said quietly. "You didn't have to come see me…I prolly look just terrible. Least that's what my Dad said."

Kyle ripped open Cartman's old yellow backpack and pulled out the jar. "Cartman put something in that brownie you ate. He poisoned you to make some stupid excuse. I'm so sorry Butters…look, I got the antidote from him. You just need to eat some of this." He lifted up the grayish, charcoal-coloured matter in the jar.

Butters winced. "ccKyle…that stuff looks icky." He said, shying away a bit on the hospital bed.

Kyle bit his lip. "It will make you better, I promise." He said, opening the jar and taking a spoon left on Butters' lunch tray. Someone had been trying to feed him jello, but by the looks of it Butters' stomach hadn't been up to the task. "Just eat a few mouthfuls, please." Kyle begged, pressing the spoon to Butter's pouty lips.

"Aw jeez." Butters mumbled and opened his mouth, making a small sound of alarm and swallowing quickly. "I-It tastes like I'm licking an ashtray…" he whimpered pathetically. Kyle dipped the spoon back into the mixture.

"It's charcoal and some…some chemical. It's supposed to soak up the poison." Kyle explained as Butters ate another mouthful.

"Kyle…w-why'd Eric do this? I ain't done nothin' to him." Butters asked. Kyle was relieved to see him already beginning to speak a bit louder, his voice stronger.

"Cartman's just an asshole, Butters." Kyle said bitterly, shoving the next spoonful in a bit harsher than he meant to. "He's done worse shit than this to people. He'd just rotten from the inside out. He should just have rotten in fucking prison." Another spoonful.

Butters swallowed and fidgeted with his hands. "E-Eric ain't that bad, Kyle. Sure he's just plumb mean sometimes, but h-he can't help it. It's just himself. And ya don't have to shove the spoon in. Feels better already, by golly." He said. Kyle sighed.

"I'm not mad at you, Butters. Sorry for doing that." He said. Butters didn't know Cartman as well as he did. Butters thought well of everyone.

"A-and he loves you, Kyle. He said not to tell you, b-but he really likes you." Butters added.

Kyle felt the pain clench around his heart again. "He was just faking, Butters. Cartman doesn't love anyone. I don't think he has the capability to love." He said quietly.


	20. Toying with Fire

Alcorion – Cartman's a sociopath. He doesn't really think about the emotions of others…he pretty much just wants his own happiness. And I think I'm in the low 2% margin of men who write gay sex scenes…from what I've heard, most if not all are women.

Call me SiCK- Has Cartman ever been a brainiac? XD

Randomstrike – Damn! You figured it out. My evil plan failed. I think Butters has an innate capability to empathize with just about anyone. Ah well, enjoy the story!

-101IKyman- - Thanks for the review! Always nice to have feedback. Cartman's been doing shit like this to Kyle since the third grade…and Kyle keeps falling for it, lol.

Whew, lot of reviews this time! Thanks all! Sorry this chapter's a little late, been puzzling on how to fix this clusterfuck.

Rig

_____

"Stan?" Cartman paced in his living room, the phone pinned against his cheek.

"Cartman I'm with Wendy. What the hell do you want?" Stan crackled on the other line. Cartman swore. By the sound of it, Stan wasn't only on his cell phone, he was quite a ways away.

"Dump your hippy bitch and get over to Hell's Pass Hospital. Kyle's in there!" he tweaked his voice, putting a bit of panic into it. He heard a loud sound on the other line then the sound of swearing and scrabbling around.

"Cartman? I dropped the phone, sorry. Kyle's in the hospital?" Stan sounded genuinely freaked out. If Cartman hadn't known if he was straight or not, he might have stooped to being jealous.

"Yes! Get over there; Butters should be with him. I'll meet you in a few hours." Cartman hung up swiftly before Stan could ask any more questions. Stan was always better at communicating than he was…leave it to the jock to fix Kyle up, or at least soften him so Cartman could get him back later.

Robbing Kyle's home had been a monumental mistake. The relationship hadn't been part of the plan, it had just happened. First things first…he had to get someone else to help him. He punched a quick series of numbers in the phone. "Nine one one? Yes, I'd like to report an arson suspect. The Pawn-It Store on Main Street. Yes…you should find some odd-looking bottles in the store. I believe they might have been stolen from the school chemistry lab. Yes, I'd like to remain anonymous. Thank you, bye." Cartman spoke quickly and hung up the phone.

That took care of that. Now, to get to the pawn shop.

Cartman headed downstairs to his basement. He smirked to himself when he saw the bottles and vials. When he told Kyle you could make poisons out of just about anything, he wasn't kidding. He had a jar of rotting maize, meat and water on one table, distilling the nicotine out of cigarettes next to it. He carefully went to a trunk he used to keep his toys in as a child, pulling his keys out of his pocket. The swastika's arm fit perfectly into the slit. No other key would.

"Thanks mom." He muttered under his breath, humming when he opened the trunk and pulled out a few water balloons. They stank heavily of gasoline, with a string soaked in kerosene leading from the knot holding the balloons contents together. He took another bottle, this one stinking of alcohol as well as the aforementioned incendiaries with a rag stuffed in the top.

These would do well. Made out of household items…anyone could make these. He carefully wiped them down with a rag and wrapped them up in it, placing them in a spare lunchbox he'd left down here.

He slammed the trunk shut, withdrawing the keys. The lunchbox he handled carefully so as not to burst the balloon, even though he'd reinforced it with another. If the pawn shop owner knew what was best for him, he'd better hand over what was left of Kyle's stolen goods.

He loved blackmail…these poor little fire angels had been sitting in his basement for so long. They deserved some room to breathe.

_____

Stan drove to Hell's Pass Hospital at a speed that would have normally made him cautious of getting pulled over. Wendy certainly looked nervous, holding onto the armrest. "Stan, he's still going to be there whether or not you're driving twenty miles over the speed limit. Slow down." She said through gritted teeth.

Stan eased off the gas pedal, sighing. "Wendy, he's my best friend. I'm worried. Especially if it's Cartman calling to tell me where he is and not Kenny." He said.

"Well, he would be spending more time with Cartman now. Cartman's his boyfriend." Wendy said evenly, sighing softly with relief when they pulled into the parking lot of Hell's Pass Hospital. Stan turned off the engine and got out quickly, not bothering to wait for his girlfriend. He knew she'd understand. This was a friend he'd known longer than he'd been dating her.

"I need to see Kyle Broflovski. What room is he in?" he asked the front desk, chewing anxiously on his thumbnail. The nurse looked up and raised an eyebrow.

"There's no one in here by that name." she said. "Are you sure he's not in the Denver hospital?"

Stan looked pale as Wendy came up behind him.

"He's got to be here! Cartman told me Butters Stotch was with him!" Stan protested.

The nurse sighed and looked at her computer. "We have a Leopold Stotch. If you want to see him he's on the second floor, room 204B." She said. Stan blinked in confusion.

"I thought Kyle Broflovski was the patient…" he trailed off. Wendy grabbed his wrist.

"It's fucking Cartman again." She snapped, marching him off to the elevators before he could ask the tired nurse any more stupid questions. "And stop biting your nails." She added when Stan left his decimated thumbnail to start torturing his index finger.

They hurried along the hallways as soon as the achingly slow elevator dinged and released its passengers. "201….203…here's 204B on the other side." Wendy said, releasing Stan and stopping at the door. She nodded her head. "Go on. I'll stay out here and make sure Cartman's got pure intentions."

Stan nodded gratefully and pushed the door open, sighing when he saw Kyle curled up in a chair next to Butters' bed. "Jesus Christ…are you ok Butters?" he asked quietly so as not to disturb Kyle's nap. Butters smiled.

"Yeah, I'm fine now. Kyle brought something over that helped." He pointed at a half full mason jar of gray sludge next to the bed. Stan picked it up and sniffed it, wincing.

"Didn't know he was such a chemist. He's been here all day?" he asked quietly. Butters nodded, looking over at Kyle.

"He said Cartman poisoned the brownies at the bake sale. I thought those girls were just real bad cooks." Butters mumbled. Stan scowled over at the door as if he expected Cartman to be standing there gloating.

"Figures. Knowing him, he set all this up." Stan growled, pulling up a chair from the other empty bed area in the room and sitting in it heavily. "Cartman said he was going to be here in a few hours. I guess he expects us to be sitting here for a while." He looked uneasily over at Kyle.

"Kyle said you hadn't been talking to him or nothin'." Butters said softly. "He said he thinks you're uncomfortable with him bein' all homosexual."

"It's called being gay, Butters." Stan corrected tiredly, pulling off his blue hat and ruffling a hand through his short black hair. "I'm not angry about it anymore. It's just the way he is. But seriously…Cartman? Who would make that choice? I love Wendy because she's smart and doesn't fall for half the crazy shit that happens in South Park."

Butters shrugged. "Least you aren't mad." He said, turning his head when Kyle's head slipped off his hand and he woke, blinking in the artificial light blearily.

"Stan?" Kyle mumbled, straightening his hat. "Why are you here? I thought you were angry at me."

"He just said he wasn't." Butters piped up cheerily. Kyle looked to Stan, who nodded grimly.

"Who you date is your choice. I won't get in between you and Cartman." Stan said, lifting one of the corners of his mouth in a smile. Kyle's eyes narrowed and he pulled off his hat, twisting it in his fingers.

"I'm not fucking dating Cartman." Kyle snarled with surprising venom. "If he ever comes near me again he's going to be laying here instead of Butters."

"I thought you liked him." Stan said, confused.

"He robbed my house Stan. That night? That was him!" Kyle growled. "He left me there with a broken ankle. He's a fat, merciless son of a bitch and I hate him."

"I'll beat the shit out of him when he comes, alright?" Stan said, sighing.

____

"Now I'm sure this business has been in your family for a long time." Cartman said calmly, playing with a cheap lighter in one hand, the lunchbox on a nearby table. "I would hate to see that go up in flames. The cops are going to be here soon, and I'll be gone, with the incendiaries…if you give me all that I sold you that night."

"Fuck you kid! You don't have the balls to be doing that sort of shit!" the pawn shop manager sputtered.

Cartman sighed and opened it up, taking out the water balloon. "I've heard that monks, when they decide to die for a cause will self-immolate. Now, normally they don't need any assistance pouring the gas on. I'd be happy to help you in your case." Cartman said calmly, pulling on his mittens and taking out the bottle. "These are very unstable. One little spark and this all goes up in flames."

"Jesus christ kid…" the manager stared at the explosives.

"My lighter finger is getting twitchy the longer you sit there and gape at me." Cartman snarled.

The manager scrambled out from behind the counter and gathered up the plates and jewelry that Cartman had stolen from the Broflovski residence. "Chop chop." Cartman gestured with the lighter as the man wrapped the delicate items in bubble wrap and shoved them into a paper bag.

"Here! Just don't light my shop on fire!" the man blubbered. Cartman placed the incendiaries back in the lunchbox and carefully placed them on the shelf. He examined one of the jewelry pieces he was intending to give back to Kyle, peeling off the price sticker and putting it on the lunch box.

"Have a nice time explaining that." Cartman said, picking up his things and walking out the door.

He saw police lights coming down the streets and he smirked, shifting the bag in his grasp to place it in his passenger seat. Now Kyle would have to forgive him. He'd gotten it all back…a small miracle in his opinion, but who bought jewelry at pawn shops for their wives anymore?

Well…anyone who didn't want to get divorced.

He drove like a saint the entire way to Hell's Pass Hospital, sighing as he drove with one hand. He hated driving under sixty five, let alone thirty. "Who the fuck decided that twenty five was a safe speed limit? You can still kill someone." He muttered under his breath as he pulled into the hospital parking lot. He glared at the old pickup truck next to him.

"Stan Marsh you better not have fucked this up for me, or I'm going to inject your girlfriend with some nasty bacterial disease." He growled under his breath, turning off the engine. He knew was room Butters was in, fortunately. Principal Victoria had been stupid enough to blab that detail to people who wanted to provide their support.

With luck, that would only be Kyle and Stan. He didn't need any well-wishers there when this thing blew up. He would have to get rid of Wendy, but that was an easy enough task.

Cartman picked up his package, took a deep breath, locked his car and walked toward the front entrance of the hospital.

Now or never.


	21. Plates of Forgiveness

Alcorion – You have no idea how much that means to me! ~hug~ Thank you so much! I'm sure it's not true, but that's one of the best compliments I've had.

Call me SiCK – That's always how I've thought of Cartman. He never does anything good for kindness' sake. He always has an ulterior motive whether it's sex or burning down a building.

You give great reviews as always, guys. You make a queen blush. Sorry this chapter's a little late.

Rig

_______

Kyle stood up, grabbing his coat. "I'll let you get some rest, Butters." He said, smiling. "I'll be downstairs in the hospital café if you need me. Stan, do you want to come with me? I think we need to talk."

Stan nodded, patting Butters' shoulder. "Go to sleep Butters." He said softly, following Kyle out of the hospital room. Butters needed some privacy after having them hang around him with their own drama. Especially after being dragged into it so cruelly.

Kyle bought himself and Stan cups of coffee. The café was nearly empty, with just a few off-duty nurses and patients struggling to keep meager food down. Kyle chose a small, round table in the corner, pulling up a black plastic chair. He slid the second cup of coffee over to Stan, who took a sip gratefully. Wendy had declined to go with them. She wouldn't leave Butters alone with Cartman when the larger boy finally arrived.

The Jewish boy sighed. Wendy was loyal, if anything. "Are you sure you don't have a problem with it? I mean when we were kids we used to sleep in the same bed. Doesn't it make you sort of uncomfortable?" he asked in a low voice, despite the lack of people in the café. Stan shrugged.

"I'd be lying if I said it didn't. But it's not like you did anything. We're best friends. Best friends do shit like that." He said, taking a sip of his drink. Kyle nodded, sighing in relief.

"What about if I get married to a man. Will you still come to my wedding?" Kyle asked awkwardly. Stan smirked.

"Well if gay marriage ever becomes legal in Colorado…I definitely will." Stan said. "Though I can't say it's not going to be awkward if you do end up forgiving Cartman and marrying him."

"Like I'd ever marry that racist douchebag." Kyle said, but he looked down into his coffee cup as he said it.

"I didn't think I'd want to marry Wendy." Stan said. "Maybe you and Cartman do need to stay together. Or at least forgive each other. If you don't, I'll always be here for you dude."

"Thanks, Stan." Kyle said gratefully. "Best friends?"

Stan nodded and smiled. "Best friends, dude."

Kyle took a drink of his coffee, and then looked down at the dark, burnt liquid. "What am I going to do about Cartman? The way he made me like him was just so damn low, even for him. One part of me wants to forgive him and hope that he learns right from wrong…Another part of me wants to go rip his balls off."

Stan winced. "I don't know. It's Cartman. He locked Butters in a nuclear shelter just so he could go to a restaurant." He said softly. "But maybe you two have always been flirting, and you just didn't know it."

"What do you mean?" Kyle asked.

"I mean when you two bickered and one of you went completely out of your way to make a point. Cartman even saved your life so you could fulfill a bet you lost. If he really hated you, do you think he would have done something like that?" Stan replied.

Kyle thought for a moment then shook his head. He didn't meet Stan's eyes.

"We should go do something together before Cartman comes. We haven't hung out in over a week because you've been over at his house or he's been over at yours. The mall's only a twenty minute walk away." Stan proposed.

Kyle nodded. "Alright. He never said a specific time for when he was going to be here anyway. If he's early we'll make him wait. He needs to explain to me why the hell he did what he did." He said softly. "I'm not as angry now, but that's probably because he's not here in front of me to beat up."

Stan laughed. "Remember what I said. I get first dibs on him."

_____

Cartman walked into the hospital, package in his arms. He set it on top of the reception desk and smiled sweetly at the receptionist. "Did you see a Jew, a jock, and a hippy come in here?" he asked her, one hand curled under his chin.

She raised an eyebrow. "If you mean the kid with the green hat, the muscular boy and his girlfriend…they went to go visit Leopold Stotch. There's been a lot of you kids coming in here recently." She said.

Cartman nodded. "Well he is our classmate…ever since we heard the news we've been flocking to poor Butters. Poisoning brownies…ghastly." He said quietly. The nurse nodded.

"He's in room 204B." she said. "The doctor's going to be along to check on him soon."

Cartman picked up the bag of plates and jewelry. "Thank you ma'am." He shot her another smile and walked to the elevator, his face darkening as he rode it. He hoped this would work. He hadn't intended for it to go so wrongly. Kyle was just supposed for forget about the robbery and Cartman would eat for a few more weeks. Instead the stupid Jew had gone and broken his ankle as a constant reminder of what had happened.

Cartman frowned. Why had he just stood there, watching Kyle passed out on the floor with his foot twisted at an odd angle? Why hadn't he just laid the items aside and helped him? Well, jail was one reason he could think up off the top of his head. The second reason was that he didn't want to be doing this; begging Kyle for forgiveness.

He made a derisive noise when the elevator dinged open and he shifted his goods, walking along the hallways. He'd done things far more degrading than begging a Jew to forgive him. But in the bedroom he knew how everything worked, particularly if he was getting paid for it. Actually dating someone was a completely different matter, he was realizing. Far different than his mom's one-night 'boyfriends'.

Cartman opened the door to Butters' room awkwardly, putting the plates and things down on a nearby table. Butters looked terrified and scrambled for the remote to call the nurse, but for all his weight Cartman moved swiftly. He grabbed the remote and put it out of Butters' reach. "Shut it Butters. You scream and you're going to skip the doctor and go straight to the morgue." He growled in the effeminate boy's face. "Where's Kyle?"

Butters stammered for a minute. "H-He and Stan went to talk…Eric, what are you doin' here? I could tell the police it was you, by golly! Look what you did to me! My parents were real mad I got poisoned. I can't clean the house when I'm poisoned." He said miserably.

"I told you, I need to talk to Kyle. I'm not here to speak to your wimpy ass." Cartman growled, pulling up Kyle's unoccupied chair and settling his bulk down in it. Butters chewed his lip.

"You gonna apologize to Kyle? He's real mad at you."

"Not that it's any of your business, Butters, but yes I am." Cartman growled.

"Eric?"

"Shut the fuck up, Butters."

"What's it like bein' a fag?"

Cartman's hands clenched and he stood up, leaning over Butters' bed. "And what the fuck is that supposed to mean?" he growled deeply.

"Hamburgers. I'm always usin' the wrong word." Butters whimpered when Cartman grabbed the front of his hospital gown.

"Damn right that's the wrong word. I'm not gay, Butters." He snapped.

"B-but you like Kyle." Butters pointed out.

"That has nothing to do with my sexuality. I like the little kike, but that's my own business." Cartman let go of Butters and sat back down in the chair. Beating up the smaller boy wouldn't look good when Kyle returned. In fact it almost guaranteed that Kyle wouldn't forgive him if Butters had a swollen lip.

Cartman glared when another familiar figure burst into the room. "Eric Cartman you better not have done anything more to him, you son of a bitch! Figures, soon as I leave to go see about the doctor checking in on Butters, you decide to sneak into the room." Wendy growled angrily, immediately stomping over to Butters. "You ok?" she asked him.

Butters glanced over at Cartman, who narrowed his eyes. The Stotch boy nodded. "Y-yeah. He was just sayin' he was going to win Kyle back, that's all." He said, grinding his knuckles together nervously.

Wendy patted his wrist comfortingly, then occupied Stan's chair. "I think Kyle has more sense than to take Cartman back." She said acidly. "I can't believe you poisoned your own friend, Cartman."

"He's fine." Cartman waved a hand dismissively.

"He's in the hospital." Wendy raised her voice a little.

"Wendy, I think the last thing Butters needs is a hippy bitch mouthing off in front of him while he's trying to recover from a hideous accident." Cartman said calmly, his soft brown eyes meeting hers. She glared at him, then stood up.

"I'm going to find Stan. You better not touch Butters or I will fucking kill you, understand?" Wendy snapped.

"Right, whatever. What are you going to do, clean me to death with your womanly powers?" Cartman chuckled when he saw Wendy flush deep red in rage, then run out of the room. He stood up and grabbed her chair, claiming it as a footrest.

He was just beginning to nod off when Kyle entered the room, arms across his chest, noticeably without Stan or Wendy.

"I thought the hippy and the jock were going to be your attack dogs." Cartman said, smirking and sitting up a bit straighter in the chair.

"I decided to wait and see if I should have them beat the shit out of you or not." Kyle said darkly. "All I have to ask is two things, Cartman. First…why?"

"You have to specify, Jew."

"I have to specify shit. Tell me why you did everything that night." Kyle said angrily.

Cartman swore inwardly. By the look in the jew-rat's angry green eyes he wasn't lying his way out of this one. "I was out of money and I had bills to pay. I wanted to see if your mom had her jew-gold in an obvious spot." He said stiffly. "I left you there because I didn't want to get caught."

Kyle nodded. "How do you get money, Cartman? I know it's not from a legitimate job because the employment around here is worse than any third world country. So what do you do? Sell drugs?" he asked. "Or do you have a meth lab in your basement or something?"

Cartman swore again. "…I took over my mom's old clients." He said, lifting his chin.

He saw the stony, angry look waver for a moment. Kyle was obviously shocked.

"Why? Cartman…there are so many other, better things you could do for money. When you talked about getting raped so casually…I didn't know it was happening every day." He said quietly. Kyle sighed and looked down at his hands. "Was our relationship a scam to keep yourself out of trouble?" he asked at length, looking up and into Cartman's eyes.

"That was your second fucking question, Jew." Cartman responded.

Kyle bit his lip. "Cartman, if you don't tell me I'm going to leave right now, and I'm going to forget I ever knew you or that this ever happened." He said, his voice filling with hurt.

"It wasn't." Cartman responded. "When I said I liked you, I meant it. Look." He stood up and walked past Kyle to the table, taking out the dishes and jewelry. "I got it all back." He turned and looked at Kyle, who had dropped his angry expression and looked truly surprised.

He walked forward, a bit hindered by the cast on his foot, and picked up a plate, feeling over the design. He turned it over and felt his eyes sting with tears when he saw the words 'Gerald and Sheila Broflovski – June 15th, 1969' inscribed on the back. "These aren't fakes…you really did get them back." He said softly, looking up at Cartman. He put the plate down and turned over the others, feeling elated that all were present and accounted for. Even the jewelry he recognized.

"This is my way of saying sorry." Cartman said. He was still feeling a little guarded..probably because he was still afraid of getting punched. Instead he felt arms around his neck.

"I didn't think you'd change." Kyle whispered against his neck, hugging him tightly. "I forgive you." Cartman felt wetness on the nape of his neck and sighed, putting his arms around the skinny form in front of him. He was a bit surprised when he heard a sniffle then Kyle pushed away.

"If I'm going to be with you…the prostitution has to stop." He said heavily. "You need to get a real job…and you're not going to hurt anyone. You don't steal, and you have to help me fix this with my family. Those are my terms." Kyle said, swallowing and rubbing the tears away from his eyes.

Cartman nodded.

"No. I need to hear you physically, vocally agree." Kyle said. "No tricks, no manipulating me."

Cartman sighed. "I agree not to hurt anyone, whore myself out, not to steal and to help you calm down your bitch mom." He said stonily. He hated being forced to say things straight out.

Kyle nodded and ran his tongue over his lips. "And you have to agree to stay with me…not to cheat on me. To love me, if you're capable of it." He said, emotion weighing his voice.

Cartman closed the gap between them and pulled Kyle close against his body. "I promise." He said, leaning his head down and pressing his lips to Kyle's. "You get to get rid of Henrietta for me." Cartman whispered against Kyle's lips, silenced when his jew-rat emphatically kissed him back. Butters watched them nervously.

"Uh, Eric? I don't think my doctor's gonna be real happy if he sees two fellas kissin' near my bed."


	22. A Good Jew Wife

Alcorion – Butters is cute as hell, imho. And I thank you, very much.

Mistress of Craziness – I have no bloody idea when this thing will be over…I hope the plot isn't rambling. But like I said, I'm writing this completely off the top of my head.

Simply anonymous – I've always wanted to do a fic with Butters…if only to write the sex scenes. I always thought he'd become a damn fox when he grew up.

Randomstrike- I love abusing characters .It makes life fun XD I'm a sick fucker.

Well, it's still not all love and kisses yet, guys. We still have to deal with Kyle's mom, Henrietta, and Cartman's mother.

Rig

____

Kyle felt like someone had lifted a millstone off of his spine. Cartman really did love him. By the way he was kissing him, Cartman must have felt the same way. Kyle felt like his body was on fire, stoked and coaxed into flame. He didn't care that Butters was as crimson as the red cross and staring at them, or that Cartman's hands were firmly around his arse. He was in love. It had taken him since pre-school to realize he had a soulmate, yet an opposite, in Eric Theodore Cartman.

"The bathroom." Cartman growled against Kyle's throat as he kissed it. Kyle blinked down at Cartman, his mind not comprehending what the larger boy was saying. "The fucking bathroom, Jew." Cartman thrusted his hips against Kyle's, making him gasp. Cartman made an impatient noise and pushed him backwards into the cramped, sterile bathroom.

Cartman lifted him onto the counter and started unbuttoning his sweater, eyes on Kyle's. Kyle was flushed, his hat askew, staring at Cartman's hands flying over his chest and stomach. Cartman yanked off his own shirt then pressed himself against Kyle, kissing him passionately. Kyle put his arms around Cartman, letting the other boy yank his hat off and paw his hair roughly.

Kyle gently pushed his hat off and struggled out of his coat, pulling his shirt over his head. He paused for a moment, feeling a bit self-conscious. He looked up at Cartman, standing there breathing hard with his shirt off. He was attractive, just in an unconventional sense. Cartman had a broad chest, a bit of flab clinging to his stomach and chest.

"Having second thoughts, Jew?" Cartman asked quietly, and Kyle realized there was hurt in his voice. Very small, clothed in a racial insult, but it was there. Kyle shook his head, grabbing Cartman's hand and pulling him back into a kiss. If Cartman thought he was unattractive then he would just have to prove it to him. It wasn't like Cartman had a lot of encouragement about his looks growing up anyway.

Kyle consumed Cartman's lips, feeling the other boy grind up against him. This feeling of being dominated was growing familiar, and he embraced it. The first time against the school wall had been arousing but frightening. This time all he thought about was Cartman. The feeling of his hips shoving against his own, kisses against his neck, bare skin against bare skin. "I need you naked." Cartman growled, reaching for his waistband. "I need this." He kissed Kyle's jaw, undoing the other boy's pants and shoving them down.

"Wait…" Kyle covered himself, biting his lip. Cartman planted his hands to either side of him on the counter, sighing and looking into his eyes.

"I'm not going to hurt you." Cartman told him quietly. "I didn't know being suspicious was part of being Jewish." He grinned in Kyle's face. The other boy glared and smacked him on the shoulder. "I just…I don't know." Kyle looked down at his pants hanging around his ankles. "I like what you did at my house, I like kissing you…I even like you pushing against me. But being naked…"

Cartman sighed and rested his head on Kyle's naked shoulder. "Kahl. The first thing I learned about sex was not to be so damn shy about it. And I'm the fat one." He held Kyle's hands and placed them on the counter, exposing him. "I have a feeling you could be a little slut if you wanted to be. What did your fat, bitch mother teach you about sex? Not that she knows. I think your grandmother stuck a dradle up her cunt to keep her from getting any fun." He laughed.

Kyle couldn't help but smile at that thought. "She just gave me a pamphlet from my rabbi. Said a lot of things about anatomy…girls have vaginas guys have penises sort of thing." He said softly.

"Jesus Christ. I don't think the fuckin' Jews in your…church thing have gotten any for a while." Cartman smirked, kissing Kyle's cheek. "You know how I learned about sex? Watching my mom. Taught me a hell of a lot more than your mom did." He said.

Kyle made a face. "Disgusting."

"Hey, I learned a lot. For one thing to make sure a girl's on the pill, to pay attention to her clit, things like that. But for guys…that's a lot less complicated." Cartman whispered intimately. "I know ways to make you go completely insane…I know how to make you scream and clutch me. I can make you beg me to do the filthiest, depraved things you've ever thought of. But you need to trust me. You need to open up for me."

Kyle rested his hand on Cartman's head, playing a bit with his straight, nut-coloured hair. "I'm not allowed to do things in my house. We're not allowed to masturbate or anything. My mom checks." He said. "I've never had sex in my entire life before. She locks out our internet so we can't look at porn."

Cartman laughed and turned his head, kissing Kyle's hand affectionately. "Oh God…no wonder you came like a damn geyser when I sucked you. I bet I could have made you cum without touching your dick." He grinned and kissed Kyle on the lips. Kyle reddened but kissed back.

Cartman smirked against his lips and opened his mouth. Kyle was surprised to feel a warm, slimy wetness brush against his lips. He opened his own and let Cartman's tongue worm around in his mouth, hesitantly curling his own around his boyfriend's. Cartman parted from Kyle after a few minutes, smiling at him.

"I'll show you more later." He kissed Kyle's cheek. "Come on, before they figure out what's going on." He grabbed his shirt and pulled it over his head, helping Kyle from the counter and handing him his shirt. "Nix the hat, Jew. I like you better without it." Cartman smirked as he buttoned up his sweater. Kyle pulled up his pants, shoving his red curls out of his eyes.

"Fatass, you can say what you want but I'm going to wear the hat." Kyle jammed it on his head to emphasize his point. Cartman rolled his eyes and nodded at the cast.

"How long?"

"Only two more weeks, then I can get out of it. No thanks to you." Kyle said, limping out of the bathroom. He was a bit embarrassed to find the doctor gave the two of them a good, long stare before returning to his examination.

"Your friend here is doing exceptionally well considering what he's just been through. We'll keep him one more night for observation but then I don't see why he can't go home." The doctor told Kyle when the limping boy approached the bed. Butters blushed again when he saw the two of them, but Kyle saw Cartman give him a nasty look. The doctor checked the IV bag and left with a smile and a reassuring pat on Butter's shoulder.

Stan was there, rubbing his neck. "Uh, so I guess this means you forgive each other, right?" he asked. Wendy was noticeably absent.

Cartman wound his hand around Kyle's waist and pulled him close. Kyle nodded, letting himself be nestled up against Cartman.

______

Kyle came home from the hospital feeling like he could jump off a cliff and fly. There was very little awkwardness between himself and Cartman now, and holding the plates in his arms just made him feel better. His mom would be so surprised! Those plates were so precious to her.

He set them on the kitchen table and unwrapped them, setting the table just as if he was having dinner with the plates. He set the jewelry on the plate he put before his mother's usual spot, and then threw the paper bag away. Kyle smiled and hobbled out to the living room, plopping himself on the couch. Ike came downstairs, sitting next to him.

"What are you so damn happy about? Mom's coming home from the Rabbi's in an hour." Ike said quietly. Kyle pointed to the kitchen and Ike leaned over in his seat, one eyebrow raising. "Cartman?" he asked.

"He got them back." Kyle said, smiling. Ike shrugged.

"That's not going to help, Kyle. The cat's out of the bag. Mom knows your gay, and she's on one of her rampages. I think you might be going to the same camp that Butters went to." Ike said, shaking his head. "Cartman would be fucking pissed if he knew."

Kyle laughed. "She wouldn't do that. I mean, my mom's a lot of things…but she wouldn't send me there. Butters even said that it didn't work." He said, leaning back with a smile on his face.

"What did he give you, E or something?" Ike demanded. "Mom is going to kill you. She was moping around the house all day despairing about how she'd never have grandchildren that are actually related to her. Never mind me, because I'm adopted. I have a feeling that if it was me who was gay you'd be put up to the task of converting me back."

Kyle snickered. "She's getting you to try and convince me not to be with Cartman?" he asked.

Ike nodded. "It's no laughing matter, bro. You and Cartman need to be careful from now on. Once you get the cast off, that's one thing. You can run from her. But here you might as well be locked in the basement. She's not letting you hang out with Stan or Kenny either." He said.

Kyle frowned. "But they have nothing to do with this!"

"Exactly. Mom thinks they might." Ike looked toward the door when headlights shone through the windows. "Well…good luck bro." Ike gave Kyle a reassuring slap on the knee and got up, heading back upstairs. Kyle was about to attempt the same when his mother opened the door.

Her eyes were red, her beehive hair in disarray, a tissue in her hand. The Rabbi was next to her, looking harried. He held her hand, patting it gently.

Kyle glared at the two of them. He was still in a very good mood from being given affection the entire car ride home from Cartman, but he knew he needed to be careful around these two.

"Bubbe, you're going to go with the Rabbi for a little while." Mrs. Broflovski said quietly, dabbing at her eyes. "I can't believe you would do this to me Kyle…and with the Cartman boy? You've betrayed this family, Kyle." Her voice was heavy, as if she was about to start crying again.

Kyle's mouth hung open slightly. "Mom…you can't do this! I'm not going with him!" he protested, standing up awkwardly. He glared and forced himself to put weight on his injured leg.

"Yes you are Kyle! You need to get away from that boy! He's confusing you. You're not gay, Kyle. You're just having some problems now and the rabbi is going to help you solve them." Sheila said softly, sniffling. "Please rabbi, reason with him please."

"Fuck you mother!" Kyle snarled, curling his fists. "You're right, I'm with Cartman! But that's because I do love him. It's not a phase, it's not confusion. If anything I was confused before! I'm gay mother, and you can just fucking deal with it!"

"You're confused Kyle and you're going to live at the camp with the other confused boys! It's not a Jewish camp, but the rabbi has promised to help you with any difficulties you have with being kosher around people who aren't. Now go pack your things, Kyle." Mrs. Broflovski said softly.

"No!"

"Do it Kyle!" Sheila shouted.

"Fuck you!" Kyle turned and hobbled into the kitchen, heading for the back door. Sheila ran forward and grabbed his arm.

"Kyle you are my son and you will fix this confusion!" she shouted at him.

Kyle ripped his arm away from her and opened the back door. "I'm not coming back Mom. Ever. I'm going to Cartman's, and I'm going to go make love to him, so you can just shove it up your ass!" Kyle shouted back, ripping his cell phone from it's charger on the kitchen counter and stomping as best he could out of his house.

It took him nearly half an hour to hobble to Cartman's home. The other boy opened the door and smiled, pulling Kyle into a kiss. Kyle sighed and put his arms around Cartman, hugging him tightly. "What are you crying for, jew-rat? Are you trying to turn me on?" Cartman smirked, kissing Kyle's cheek when the other boy started struggling to hold back tears.

Kyle smiled, forcing himself to breathe slowly and evenly. "I love you too fatass." He whispered quietly. "Can I live with you for a while?" he asked, standing back a bit from Cartman.

"I don't know Jew…what are you planning to do in return? Do you have your jew gold on you?" Cartman grinned, a bit startled when Kyle pushed his mouth against his own. He sensed inwardly that it was just because Kyle was upset that he was trying to be intimate, but damn if he was going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Alright, I guess you can stay. One condition though. No, three." Cartman said with a grin when Kyle walked into his home and sat on the beat-up couch.

"What is it, fatass? I just got kicked out of my house…it's not like I can go live with Kenny." Kyle said, taking his hat off with a sigh.

"One. You sleep in my bed, with me. It's wide enough that you won't fall out, and it's more comfortable than your crappy one." Cartman said, putting his arms behind his back and smiling, walking to stand in front of Kyle.

Kyle smiled gently. "I would have done that anyway. If we're going to be together, I need to get used to it anyway." He said.

"Two. You don't touch my lab. Your innate Jewish sense of thievery will no doubt bring you to the valuable poisons and bacteria in that lab, and if you touch them you could kill yourself. And because you don't have a soul, that puts you in twice the danger. Just don't do it. Three, you have to contribute to the house. Clean until you're fixed then we both have to get jobs. It's going to take me a bit to get rid of my clientele so you're going to have to deal with that in the meantime. Alright?" Cartman said.

Kyle frowned. "Cartman…you're not sleeping with anyone else." He said sternly.

"I have bills due this month, Jew. Sorry, it's going to happen. It's not like I enjoy it, it's just work. You don't tell anyone about what you see going in and out of this house. By the end of the month, I'll quit. Enough time for me to get last minute kicks out of everyone and a good farewell tip. I'm the only hooker in town, after all. Now they have to drive to fucking Denver." Cartman growled. Kyle sighed and folded his arms.

"Fine." He said angrily. "But after this month, if I see any dirty old men I'll kill them. And you need to get tested. I's not safe." He looked up at Cartman, expecting a challenge.

But the other boy seemed to sense that it would stand in the way of sleeping with Kyle if he refused. Cartman nodded, sitting down on the couch next to Kyle and kissing his cheek.

"So, what are you cooking for dinner, Jew?" he asked with a grin.


	23. Depraved Acts of Cookery

Thank you everyone for reviewing this! I'm sorry to the people who want a new Grounded by Fear chapter…I'm going to finish this one first and update the other occasionally.

No reviews this chapter? I'm shocked XD. Kidding. I'm just glad you all are reading this.

Rig

_____

"You know, I thought that since you left that house you'd be cooking better." Cartman said, his arms around Kyle's waist as the other stirred beef and various vegetables in a deep pan. "At least this has something I know in it." The other boy reached up and deftly plucked a steaming chunk of beef out of the pan, popping it into his mouth and swearing at the heat.

"Hey! It's cholent, and it's good." Kyle said, looking back at Cartman. "It's your own fault you're burning your mouth." He added when his boyfriend swallowed and left him to sip water from the sink tap.

"What the fuck is it?" Cartman said, returning with a fork this time. Kyle raised the ladle threateningly.

"I just told you. It's cholent. Think a stew." Kyle said, stirring the pan a little more. "I wanted it to cook quicker so I'm using a pan instead of a stew pot. Taste good?" he asked when Cartman started kissing his neck, the fork inching closer to the pan.

"Horrible. I think you should take over the poison-making." Cartman purred, flicking his tongue over Kyle's earlobe. Kyle closed his eyes and moaned softly. Cartman's tongue was hot from the beef he'd stolen, and it made him shudder. He felt something move in the pan and his eyes shot open. "Cartman leave it alone!" Kyle growled, elbowing the other boy as he swung a large mouthful of beef and carrot out of range.

Cartman blew on it to cool it down and stuffed it in his mouth, his fork going down for another bite. "Mm…and when will this filth be ready, Jew?" he asked, his voice muffled by the food. Cartman thought he heard the front door open and shut, but banished the thought. This was his off day. There wouldn't be any clients.

Kyle pushed back with his rear, trying to get Cartman off of his back. "When you stop eating it!" he growled. He felt Cartman push back with his hips, the other boy's hands moving to his own.

"Mm do that again." Cartman growled, grinding his groin into Kyle.

"No! I'm cooking!" Kyle protested weakly.

"I know that, Jew." Cartman told him, pressing himself harder against Kyle.

Kyle moaned and leaned forward, allowing Cartman to rub it up and down between his legs. He felt the steam from the food rise and heat his face, his pants growing tight.

"It's gonna burn…" Kyle gasped when Cartman's hand dived down into his pants, stroking him with each thrust of his hips. "Oh god…" Kyle braced his hands on the counter, his breathing hitching. Cartman stroked him up and down, then a few fingers dipped lower to rub against Kyle's balls. Kyle pushed against the fingers, his mouth open and gasping. The hand rubbed him harder and harder, driving him to lean his head back.

"Keep stirring." Cartman purred in his ear.

"I can't…" Kyle whimpered when Cartman's thumb ran across his cockhead.

"Yes you can. Keep stirring and I'll keep stroking." Cartman licked up the side of his neck and Kyle forced his arm up, stirring the food slowly. The cholent was cooling, becoming thicker. It felt like Kyle had lead weights on the ladle. The food was the last thing on his mind.

"Eric please…" Kyle begged and spread his legs a bit wider, allowing one of Cartman's fingers to rub behind his balls. It felt so good. Cartman was in complete control of his body. "Please… I'm getting close…" Kyle moaned.

"Then let me stir." Cartman's other hand took the ladle gently, keeping the broth from burning with an expert hand. Kyle was pinned between Cartman's hips and the oven.

Kyle slid a hand into his own pants, rubbing himself quickly. He felt something hot smack his arm and he withdrew his stroking hand with a small yelp. "I didn't say you could touch yourself, Jew." Cartman growled. He'd smacked his arm with the ladle.

"Cartman…" Kyle was slightly embarrassed to find himself begging to cum, squirming against the body behind him.

"Turn around." Cartman stood back a little, smirking and letting Kyle awkwardly turn to face him. "It's coming along well…what do you think?" he offered the ladle for Kyle to lick. Kyle was burning with desire…he didn't want to think about cooking. He wanted Cartman's mouth on him again. The memory was making his poor cock ache. He ran his tongue up the head of the ladle, surprised to find that the taste was quite good. He wasn't as bad at this as he thought.

"Put it in your mouth." Cartman whispered. Kyle obeyed, sliding the head of the spoon in his mouth and sucking the broth off enthusiastically. "Now get on your knees while I pay attention to the food…you've got something else to suck, you gorgeous little jew-rat." Cartman gently pulled the spoon away and let the Jew slid down on his knees.

Kyle 's mind was buzzing, his mouth was on fire from the hot temperature of the cholent. His earlier misgivings about sex seemed to fly out the window, much to his inner horror. His fingers freed Cartman's cock from the confines of his pants, and he looked up briefly. Cartman was stirring the food like nothing was happening…how was he controlling this so well?

Kyle's mouth dived forward and he heard a loud cry above him, followed by the clang of wood on countertop. "Jesus fucking Christ, Jew…" Cartman growled, looking down to see Kyle's lips around his cock. Kyle was red as his hair, sucking loudly. Cartman felt his teeth a few times, but Kyle's enthusiasm more than made up for it.

The ginger's brain began working again, his orgasm now stayed. He had Cartman's cock filling his mouth…God the other boy was as thick as a beer bottle! It was stretching his lips almost to the point of being painful. He felt the cockhead pressing against his soft palate, his mouth struggling to keep his teeth from grazing Cartman's cock. He was surprised to find he didn't even have the whole thing in his mouth when his eyes directed on Cartman's groin. He sucked awkwardly, bringing his tongue up to explore the rigid flesh pulsing in his mouth.

"Use your tongue on the head…" Cartman hissed the order, picking up the spoon again and stirring their dinner. "Don't go so deep…this is your first time." Cartman's spare hand moved to rub Kyle's head encouragingly, moaning when he felt wet heat drag across his cockhead. Kyle was rubbing himself, moaning around the cock in his mouth. Cartman would have given anything for a camera…he was sure later Kyle would be completely embarrassed. The sucking noises from Kyle's mouth, the soft wet sound of the little jew-rat rubbing himself, and the smell of sex and food was driving Cartman wild.

"Kahl, you might want to pull off." Cartman suggested breathily, but Kyle wasn't listening to him. He was completely consumed in what he was doing. "Kahl, I'm seriously….fuck…" Cartman tried to push Kyle's head away with the hand he had on the other boy's scalp, but his boyfriend stubbornly began to suck harder.

Fuck it. He rocked his hips gently in and out of Kyle's mouth, resisting the urge to slam the Jew's head against the oven and fuck his throat. The tension in his groin was tightening, pulling taut like a cord about to snap. All it took was one more glance downward at the scene below his waist and he came violently, his hips bucking forward. "God you little cock slut…" Cartman growled with each wave that broke over him. Kyle looked a bit surprised when he pulled off, holding Cartman's seed in his mouth.

"Let me see it…keep rubbing." Cartman ordered, putting a little steel in his voice when he saw the insecurity on Kyle's face. Kyle opened his mouth, revealing the creamy streaks on his tongue, and groaned loudly. Cartman saw his hips jerk and his mouth closed reflexively. Kyle's breathing slowed and he slumped against the oven.

Cartman's cum was tangy and thick, heavily salted and slightly acrid. Kyle wasn't sure if he liked it or not…Moses…he'd gone crazy. He was a mix of emotions. Embarrassed, for sure. Oddly calm. He felt like he was a sexual being for the first time, and almost wanted to do it again. He swallowed and heard Cartman swear above him, turning off the burner and mixing the burning cholent.

"Mphod mamn mas phucking mhot!"

Kyle peeked out from behind Cartman's legs and saw Kenny standing in the kitchen doorway, nursing the front of his pants with a hand. Kyle blushed and frantically wiped the cum off his hand and shirt with a kitchen rag. Cartman swore and zipped up his pants, turning around to protect Kyle's modesty. The Jewish boy was swearing in upset and rearranging his pants, pulling on the oven to stand up.

"Kenny you better quit rubbing yourself or I'm going to add testicles to the fucking stew!" Cartman roared, his face purple in rage.

Kenny laughed and pulled back his hood with both hands. "You have to admit that was hot. I had no idea Kyle was such a little slut. Maybe he can take care of this for me as well." He grabbed his groin and Cartman charged him. Kenny bolted.

Kyle heard the two of them running up the stairs, Cartman's roaring turning into breathless raging. Kenny was definitely in better shape. Kyle felt a small tightening around his chest, his face burning with embarrassment and tears springing to his eyes. What had he been thinking? Hadn't he been taught better than to do things like that?

He found the downstairs bathroom and locked himself in, sitting on the toilet and letting tears roll down his cheeks. He felt dirty, not loved. Like he'd been taken advantage of again. Kyle heard a loud thump and a cry of pain upstairs and the thought of Kenny made him hide his face in his hands. Being called a slut hurt. It made him feel like he was just being used for sex, like an object.

______

Cartman pinned Kenny to the floor, a knee in the middle of the poor boy's back, one arm around the underside of Kenny's chin. "I'm going to snap your poor ass fucking neck I swear to God!" Cartman roared at the back of Kenny's head.

"I'll just come back tomorrow…" Kenny gurgled against the thick forearm choking off his air supply. The arm jerked up.

"You shut your fucking mouth or there's not going to be anything to resurrect." Cartman said coldly. "This is the first time I've ever gotten Kyle to be anything but shy about sex, and you had to go and fucking ruin it by watching! How the hell do you think he feels right now?!" Cartman jerked his arm up again.

Kenny winced, bringing up a hand to pull at Cartman's arm. Cartman withdrew it and grabbed Kenny's scalp, driving his head into the hallway carpet. "If you call him a whore ever again, I won't go after you. I'll kill your fucking family and dump their bodies in the garbage dump." Cartman snarled and got up, making sure to put his weight on the knee in Kenny's spine.

Kenny rolled on his side, coughing and gasping for breath. "Holy…fuck…" he wheezed, bringing a hand to his face. His breath hitched and he began coughing again when Cartman drove a boot into his ribs.

"Do you understand what I'm telling you, you syphilis-ridden poor piece of shit?!" Cartman snarled.

Kenny struggled up to his hands and knees, only to have Cartman kick him over again. "Yes I do!" Kenny glared angrily, holding his stomach. "I think you broke a fucking rib…" the blond boy groaned, resting his forehead on the carpet. He had no idea Cartman could inflict that much pain in such a short amount of time.

"Good! I hope I shattered your damn ribcage! Come downstairs in an hour. Kyle's probably run by now, you asshole. If you say one thing about what you just saw, I will make sure you don't come back the next morning." Cartman growled, giving Kenny one last kick before heading downstairs.

His ears were pricked for footsteps, but it seemed Kyle had already hidden himself. He went into the kitchen and took the food off the heat. It wasn't too badly burned, just a bit overdone. He slid it into the microwave to keep warm and sighed. Kyle had opened up to him. He'd trusted him just like Cartman asked him to do in the hospital bathroom…and Cartman let him down.

It was too bad Kenny had to walk in on them. Cartman had been planning on curling up on the couch and doing something romantic like watching Saw together or something. Maybe go another round. That little suck in the kitchen showed just how undersexed Kyle was. He was ignorant, if enthusiastic. Still too shy to initiate anything but kisses.

Cartman went into the living room, tilting his head. He could hear Kenny upstairs padding around…probably going to the bathroom to see just how badly fucked up he was. The bathroom. The heavier boy headed to the hallway bathroom, slowly pressing his ear against the door. He could hear sobbing.

"Kahl?" Cartman said the name quietly. "Are you alright?"

"What do you fucking think?" Kyle's voice was heavy and assaulted by short gasps of air and hiccups. He really was upset about this. Cartman personally didn't feel one way or the other…he'd just been angry at Kenny because he knew this would happen.

Only he got to hurt his Jew.

"Want to open the door?" Cartman asked. He remembered his mother doing something similar to this the first time he'd had sex. But whereas she had been drunk and slurring her words, Cartman was genuinely concerned.

"No." Kyle said softly.

"And why not, Jew?" Cartman leaned against the door, sighing and resting his head against the wood. There was silence for a few minutes, then he heard the mechanical grinding of the lock being undone. He straightened and slowly opened the door, closing it behind him. "I thought you weren't opening the door." He smirked, kneeling in front of Kyle, who had resumed his seat on the toilet.

Kyle was breathing a bit steadier now, but refused to look Cartman in the eye. Eric sighed and took ahold of one of his lover's hands, stroking it. "Kenny was just being a dick, alright? He didn't mean it. The poor piece of shit wouldn't know privacy if it hit him upside the head." He said quietly.

"This is the worst day of my life…" Kyle said, looking down. "I get kicked out…I do something completely depraved and Kenny sees me doing it. He's going to tell Butters at least, I know it."

"He's not gonna tell shit because he knows I'll bury his poor ass ten feet deep." Cartman said gently. "Everyone knows your mom's a bitch, so don't worry about it. You're with me now. What happened in the kitchen was completely normal. A bit kinky for you sure, but normal."

Kyle wiped his eyes. "I did like it." He admitted.

"Like it? You went crazy." Cartman said, pecking Kyle on the forehead. Kyle nuzzled him briefly.

"What about Ike? I can't just leave him there. He's my brother…and she's my mom, Cartman. I can't do this to her." Kyle rubbed the heel of his hand against one of his eyes, trying to push away the tears. "What am I going to do…?" he looked up at Cartman.

Cartman put a hand on Kyle's cheek. "You already did it to her. She's a bitch. Let her live with the fact she's an ignorant cunt. Ike's gonna be fine. He's smarter than I am, for chrissake." He reassured him.

"I've got to talk to her." Kyle said. "I can't just walk out on her like this."

"If you want, Jew, I'll be right there with you. Besides, I wouldn't miss a chance to see your mom get her ass handed to her by her own sons." Cartman said.


	24. A Week from Hell

Alcorion – Reviews are a privilege, my friend. Review when you want, I was making a joke…nothing serious. ~hug~ I love writing sex scenes between Kyle and Cartman.

Angiie Autopsy – Thank you, thank you ~takes a bow~ I love your reviews just as much. To be honest, I run to the inbox every time I see the words "Review Alert".

Simply anonymous – Cartman was inches away from it, I assure you XD

Randomstrike – I do like torture, but I'll only put it in a story where appropriate. 3

Thanks for all the reviews everyone! I apologize for my little joke last chapter. Reviews are a privilege, not a right, and I'm honored you take the time out of your day to both read this and tell me what you think. I do have a secret to writing Cartman though…I listen to very violent, skinhead music (Prussian Blue, Screwdriver, Branikald) when I write him. I'm pretty sure my roomies think I'm a Nazi.

Much love,

Rig

-----

The dinner table was silent as the group ate. "This is good." Kenny broke the silence finally, shoveling more of the cholent into his mouth. Cartman glared at him but kept silent, eating his own meal. Kyle was quiet, messing around with the stew in his bowl. He didn't feel all that hungry anymore, but was glad at least Kenny was eating. He felt bad for the poor boy getting beat up so viciously by Cartman.

Not that Kenny didn't deserve it for making those comments.

"Hey Kyle?" Kenny spoke up again. Kyle could imagine hackles rising on the back of Cartman's neck with the way he looked at the poor boy. "I'm sorry for watching you guys. I mean…it's just a healthy way of expressing love, and if I freaked you out I'm sorry. I won't tell anyone. Though, you gotta admit that was extraordinarily hot." He said with a grin. Kyle blushed and took a bite of his food to avoid saying anything.

"Alright Kenny, you've eaten now get the hell out of my house." Cartman growled. Surprisingly, Kenny picked up his bowl and drained the broth into his mouth on the way to the kitchen. Kyle heard the clink of the bowl in the sink and the back door opening. At least he seemed to understand his welcome had been worn out.

Kyle breathed a sigh of relief and rubbed a hand over his face. "I'm tired." He said quietly. "Can I just sleep on the couch?"

Cartman looked at him for a minute then grabbed both their bowls. "Remember the conditions, Jew. Don't run off just because of what happened." He said, heading into the kitchen. Cartman came out a few minutes later and offered his arm to Kyle. "Come on, I'll carry you upstairs. It's been a fucking long day." He said.

Kyle took his hand and Cartman knelt, sliding one arm around the back of Kyle's knees with the other on his back. He swung the other boy up with a grunt and held Kyle against his chest, kissing his cheek. He carried his ginger upstairs, setting Kyle down on his large, soft bed. "Cartman?" Kyle asked, rearranging himself to a more comfortable laying down position.

"Yes, Kahl?" Cartman asked, pulling his sweater and shirt off.

"No…uh…sex tonight." Kyle said softly.

Cartman laughed and shook his head. "We're just sleeping in my bed, Jew." He said, unzipping his pants and sitting on the bed. Kyle felt a tremor run through the structure, followed by even more aftershocks when his lover lay down on the bed. Cartman pulled the thick down comforter up over them both and snuggled against Kyle's back.

Kyle felt arms around his waist and Cartman's hips pressing against his rear, but it didn't feel sexual. It felt more like a large living pillow was lulling him to sleep. "Goodnight, jew-rat." Cartman whispered, kissing his neck affectionately. Kyle nuzzled his head into the pillow.

"Night, fatass."

______

"Cartman, are you asking to get shot the minute we walk in?" Kyle asked in exasperation.

Cartman ignored him, straightening his gloves and sliding the armband up his bicep. "Jew, as far as I'm concerned this is war." He said. Kyle glared at him.

"You're not walking into my house with a swastika on your arm." He snapped. "It's offensive! My mother will crucify you!"

"Crucify? Interesting choice of word for a Jew." Cartman said. He was dressed a bit differently than his normal. A black t-shirt with the words 'Branikald' were scrawled across the front, a blue iron cross below it. It stretched across his frame, and showed off the muscles he'd developed in middle school quite well. His pants he'd exchanged for black jeans that paired with the black combat boots he'd taken to wearing after the sixth grade. He claimed at the time they were easier to break ribs with.

The red armband with the white circle enrobing a swastika completed the outfit. "You look like a skinhead going to a metal concert." Kyle growled. "I'm not letting you wear that armband."

"Well isn't that what I am? A faithful member of the Party going to get rid of some pesky Jew bitch that's been making my jew-rat cry." Cartman said. He smirked and leant down a bit to kiss Kyle's lips. "You're so cute when you're angry. Remind me to fuck you when you've completely lost your temper."

Kyle sighed and kissed back. There wasn't much he was going to do to change Cartman now. He was going to be a Nazi whether he wanted him to be or not. Besides, a non-racist Cartman didn't seem right in his mind. "Alright. As long as you don't have any weapons." He said.

"Of course not, Jew." Cartman said dismissively.

"Look, I know you have something on you. Some sort of nasty poison or that switchblade you threatened Clyde with once. But please, please Cartman…for my sake." Kyle put a hand on his lover's broad chest. "Don't do anything stupid, ok?"

"I won't." Cartman took Kyle's hand from his chest and kissed his palm.

"Promise me." Kyle said, looking into Cartman's eyes.

"You have to make everything difficult, don't you?" Cartman rolled his eyes. "Come on. If we're going to do this, we'd better do it before you lose your nerve." He said.

Kyle sighed and rested against Cartman's chest, hiding his face in the skinhead shirt. "Dinner with Kenny last night was awkward enough. I'm not sure I can take much more of this." He said quietly. Cartman wrapped his strong arms around the skinny ginger and kissed him on the head.

"It'll be fine." Cartman said. "Jews aren't any worse than clients. They're greedier."

He felt Kyle snicker against his chest and hit him softly. "I'm not greedy." He protested with a smile.

"Only when it comes to dick." Cartman joked. He saw Kyle blush and the ginger slipped out of the embrace.

"Let's go, I don't really want to put this off any longer." Kyle said. He'd appreciated that Cartman had intimidated Kenny into silence last night, and hadn't tried anything when they'd cuddled up in bed. Cartman had just held him with those thick arms and snuggled up against his back. The other boy had been surprisingly warm.

Cartman smirked and adjusted the armband, then picked up his keys from the nightstand. "You sure you're good to get down the stairs?" he asked jokingly. "I mean, your clumsy ginger ass couldn't handle them when you had a good ankle."

Kyle punched him in the shoulder. "Enough." He said. "This thing is all your fault, remember?" he lifted his leg to show the cast, then ambled out of Cartman's room. Cartman followed, rolling his shoulders. He felt ten times as confident with the armband on. It gave him a sense of security and self-worth.

He smirked to see Kyle having some difficulties getting down the stairs. Though he had a lot of affection for the ginger, it didn't mean he still didn't get a kick out of the frustrated noises Kyle was making as he made his way down the stairs. "Apparently Jews only move quickly when they've got a nice amount of gas in their lungs. Or should I grab my mother's silver to swing in front of you?" Cartman asked sweetly.

"Shut the fuck up, fatass! Like I said, this is your fault and you're going to piss off my mother more than me talking to her is." Kyle snarled, edging down the last step and grabbing onto the couch for support. He could walk without crutches, but his hips were killing him from moving the cast around.

"Oh I don't know about that." Cartman said, coming up behind him and kissing his cheek. "Come on, let's get you to the car." He shifted to stand beside Kyle and offered him an elbow.

Kyle looked suspiciously at the red cloth encircling Cartman's bicep before sighing and taking the offered arm. "Alright." He said.

"You have to admit this is ironic." Cartman grinned, pulling out his keys. "An injured, helpless little jew-rat clinging to the arm of a strong member of the Party. Mm. Maybe we could take this little fantasy to the bedroom." He purred.

Kyle reddened and let go of Cartman, struggling on his own out the door and into the passenger seat. "There is no way I'm sleeping with you when you have a Nazi uniform on, fatass! I have boundaries!" he growled. "Besides, I'm already technically a chubby chaser." He was slightly pleased to see Cartman's eyes narrow as he settled his weight into the driver's seat.

"I'm big boned, Jew. Just shows you like well-built, strong men." Cartman corrected with a flat tone. Kyle snorted.

"Your bones got thicker through elementary school, if I remember." He snickered. Cartman turned on the engine and growled at his lover.

"Alright, just for that, we're listening to my music." He snapped, hand on the radio. Kyle's hands reflexively flew to his ears, but were surprised to hear a soft, electronic opening. Kyle listened for a minute, expecting the voice to come out screaming from behind the deceptive beginning, but a woman began singing. Kyle stifled a laugh as Cartman backed out of the driveway and drove them down the street.

"Lady Gaga? Are you serious, Cartman?" he chuckled.

"You shut your mouth, Jew. It helps me when I'm about to do something like this. Besides, I like this song. Just shows you have no taste." Cartman muttered, hunching his shoulders slightly.

Kyle shook his head with a smile, resting back in his seat. At least it was something that wouldn't shatter his eardrums. Cartman was actually driving slower this time. When he took a look at the speedometer, it hit him. Cartman was just as nervous as he was about confronting his mother. He was delaying their journey, if only by a few precious seconds. The song….well, Cartman had always been someone very closely tied to music.

"Are you alright?" Kyle asked softly, putting his hand on Cartman's knee.

"I'm fucking fine, Jew." Cartman sighed and gripped the steering wheel tighter, guiding them into Kyle's driveway. He put the car into park, shutting the engine off and sighing heavily. "You ready?" he asked, looking over at Kyle.

Kyle seemed to have switched places emotionally with him. Now Kyle was the one looking nervously at his front door like it would come out and bite him. Cartman slid his keys into his pocket and opened the driver's side door, going around to Kyle's side and opening it. "Hey, I'm going to be right there with you." Cartman said. "So what do you have to be afraid of?"

"Cartman, I know you didn't have a close family life like I did, but this is serious. This is my family." Kyle answered quietly. "If my mother tells me she never wants to see me again, I don't think I would be able to stand it."

Cartman stood back a bit and held out his hand. Kyle took it in his own with a deep sigh and pulled himself out of the car. "Steady, Jew. Your kind doesn't do too well in wars." Cartman said with a playful grip on Kyle's shoulder.

"Shut up, fatass." Kyle said softly, taking comfort in the old insult. "Just remember this is my battle."

Cartman led him up the stairs to the front door and Kyle straightened his back, steeling himself. He rapped on the wood with his knuckles. Cartman wound his arm around Kyle's waist, squeezing him slightly. The door opened and Kyle's mother looked down at her son, eyes red from crying.

"Kyle, get your things. I can't believe you would disobey me like this!" she said sternly. Her eyes swung toward Cartman and Kyle felt the other boy squeeze his waist again. "The Cartman boy can go home." Kyle felt her eyes burn a trail down to Cartman's bicep and grow cold.

"Mom." Kyle began weakly, his voice shuddering.

"I don't want to hear excuses, Kyle. We're fixing this problem with your sexuality! It's not normal, Kyle, and you know Judaism forbids it." Mrs. Broflovski said, raising her voice a little.

"Hey. Jew cunt." Cartman growled low in his chest. "Why don't you try fucking listening to the ginger for once before you go spouting off a bunch of stupid shit."

Sheila looked like she was going to slap him. Cartman looked like he would repay her in kind. In fact, his eyes promised it.

"Let's sit down at the damn table and talk about this like normal fucking people. Get your Jew mate down here, and the little flap-head spawn, and we go to the kitchen. Right myaw." Cartman's voice was cold, hateful as his mother's. The fact that he put an accent on 'now', in a way Kyle hadn't heard since middle school, comforted him. Kyle put a hand around the arm at his waist and squeezed Cartman's hand.

He was aware his mother was watching every movement, gaping at Cartman's foul language. "I will not be spoken to like-"

"Do as he says, Mom." Ike said from the top of the stairs, walking down slowly, cautiously. "They're not all that bad. If Cartman was really evil he would have killed Kyle a long time ago. I think it's a good thing they're together. They've been arguing enough."

Sheila looked from Ike to Kyle, to Cartman and back again. "Kyle, you are my son and this is my house. If you want to live under my roof, you're going to have to fix this." She said, though her voice was soft. Ike finished his descent and put his hand on Sheila's shoulder. "Come on Mom. We can at least talk with them." He said quietly, leading her into the kitchen.

Kyle nodded at him gratefully.

This was going to be one long night.

______

Cartman took the coffee pot off the machine and poured four cups, placing one in front of Ike and Kyle, then going back for his own and Mrs. Broflovski's. Sheila was strangely silent, peering into the dark liquid. Even though she had Ike sitting next to her, rubbing her shoulder, she looked as though she would cry again.

"Kyle, I'm begging you to try the camp. The pastors there can help you…you don't have to live like this." She begged Kyle.

Cartman was as quiet as Ike, sipping his drink. He had said his peace, he had gotten the crazy female kike seated at a table. It was up to Kyle to start diplomacy. He knew if he said anything more it would turn out badly for his lover.

"Mom. I'm sure this isn't just a phase or something. This is who I am now. I had just as hard a time accepting it as you." Kyle said. He seemed to have gotten his confidence back when his mother wasn't snarling at him. Cartman sitting next to him, staring at Ike and his mother across the table, seemed to help. It was like having a bodyguard for the worst day of his life. "I'm sure this is the right thing. Cartma- Eric and I aren't in one of those manipulation fests we had when we were young. I might be falling in love, and all I'm asking is for you to understand and respect that."

"I can't, Kyle. I want you to try the camp, only for a week. Please." Sheila said quietly. "If this…thing isn't going away…then I'll try and understand why you chose this racist boy instead of a nice girl like Bebe Stevens."

Kyle felt Cartman blanch next to him and saw his fingers tighten on the coffee cup. "If I do, will you promise that you won't ostracize me from the family…that we can still be together at Hanukkah and Passover. That you won't act like I'm some drug addict the family never speaks of." Kyle said, reaching out to Cartman. Cartman grasped his fingers gratefully, if a little tightly.

Sheila looked uncomfortable at the contact. "…Alright." She said, though Cartman could have sworn she seemed confident that a week at the camp would change Kyle. Hah. Not his Jew, not on her life.

"And that you'll let Eric be with me and the family. He doesn't have anyone anymore except me, Mom." Kyle said, running his thumb over Eric's fingers.

Cartman gave him a look. It sounded damn mushy coming out of Kyle's mouth. He could handle himself.

"A week starting tomorrow morning, Kyle. I expect you to have a week's worth of clothes packed and the Torah." Mrs. Broflovski had a bit of her old anger in her voice. Cartman smirked inwardly and Kyle nodded. So she didn't like him touching her son? What would she say if she'd seen Kyle on his knees with cum on his tongue?

He had a war going on with the kike now, and he was going to win this. He was going to win Kyle.

Cartman was going to Bible Camp.

______

DUN. DUN. DUN.

Sorry for the late chapter everyone! Was distracted by my fiancé giving me a surprise visit and the new Zune he got me! It's pretty! Eee! ~waves brown and green Zune around~

Rig


	25. Two Types of Virgin

Derp Derp – You didn't think I'd leave those out didja? They're comin'.

Alcorion- In hindsight yes, it was a bit too much. But hey, the past is the past. We've got an interesting chapter to look forward to!

Angiie Autopsy – Sorry for the slow chapter XD And hooray for Zunes and hot fiancés!

PurePinkEtiquette – Lol, I try to update every now and then. Thanks!

____

Kyle was silent the entire way back to Cartman's house. It just seemed agreed upon that Sheila wasn't comfortable with Kyle sleeping in her home at the moment until the week was up. Kyle had been sure he wanted to stay the night with Cartman, but seeing how cheerful the other boy was irked him. Didn't Cartman understand how serious this was? This wasn't some stupid war game. He didn't want to choose between his mother and his lover. It shouldn't have to be that way.

He folded his arms across his chest, ignoring the smirk on Cartman's face. He looked out the window, sighing and resting his cheek against the cold glass. Snow ran by, dotted with houses and trees. They passed the Marsh residence and Kyle reflexively touched the laptop at his feet. Cartman had gotten a few of his possessions from his room to ensure that he could keep up on schoolwork.

"I'll get all your assignments and shit for you, Jew." Cartman said, taking a hand off the steering wheel to rest it on Kyle's knee.

Kyle nodded quietly. What would this camp be like? Would they pressure him into dating women or something? Duck his head in water? Shove him by a campfire and force him to sing the gay away or something? His stomach was in knots at the thoughts.

He pulled his backpack of overnight clothes and his computer closer to his legs. In his backpack was a fairly nondescript medical box that contained several spare needles and his insulin.

He remembered Butters' tales of the camp he had gone to. Was it the same one? There couldn't be that many camps like that in Colorado could there? Kids committing suicide every day…he shuddered and stole a glance at Cartman. The other boy was looking at him suspiciously.

"You ok, Jew?" Cartman asked, directing his attention back to the road.

"I don't know what I just agreed to." Kyle said softly.

"Don't worry about it. Jews do well in camps. Your survival mechanism will kick in and you'll be digging under the fence before you know it." Cartman said with a smirk.

"Cartman…quit joking around. I need reassurance, okay?" Kyle said quietly.

"That was a joke?"

Kyle glared at him, but softened his expression when he saw Cartman was serious. He hadn't meant that as a joke. Maybe as a sideways way of comforting him? Cartman pulled into his house's driveway and shut the engine off, pulling Kyle sideways towards him by the other boy's collar.

Kyle yelped but was silenced by Cartman's lips on his own. "I can hear you thinking. Stop it." Cartman said sternly when they parted, then let go of Kyle's coat. Kyle was a bit stunned by the sudden action, his hands supporting himself on the space between the seats. Cartman leaned over again and kissed him, this time with a gentle hand on his jaw. Kyle kissed back, his back twisted oddly. "Can we go in the house?" he asked in a whisper, parting his lips from Cartman's.

"This is easier…besides, it's getting late. No one's going to see us." Kyle heard the purr creep into Cartman's voice. He settled back into his own seat when Cartman got out of the car and folded down the back seats. It was surprisingly roomy back there now. Kyle uneasily clambered back, careful not to hit his cast on the driver's seat. Cartman slid inside and shut the doors. "Now we have our own private room." Cartman whispered, approaching Kyle and kissing him.

"I'm just nervous about this camp is all. I don't want to change, or be tortured the way Butters was. Kids killed themselves there…" Kyle began when Cartman pulled away again. He closed his eyes when he felt soft lips on his neck and angled his head up.

"Like I said, you're a Jew. Being in confined areas with lots of fences brings out the survivalist in you." Cartman whispered, his hand snaking up the front of Kyle's shirt.

Kyle felt Cartman's hand linger on his stomach, rubbing gently at the soft skin there. It was a nice, warm feeling, like drinking hot cocoa. "I know, but I don't think I could stand being around kids who were just being brainwashed into thinking they are something they're not." He said. "It's not right. I mean, I know you don't care about other people, but it's still not right."

"You're damn right I don't give a crap. I know you'll pull through fine, and that's all I care about. If they want to put bullets in their brains so be it." Cartman said. Kyle felt his lips trail down to his collarbone, and the hand on his stomach move to his chest. Fingers stroked over the left side of his chest, sparking arousal all over his body.

Kyle smirked and pushed Cartman's hand down. "Cartman, I just want to cuddle tonight." He said. "I have to leave tomorrow."

"Which is why you need to get in as much time with me as possible. It's a week." Cartman purred, sliding his hand down lower. Kyle breathed in deeply and let his smirk grow into a full-blown smile and grabbed his lover's wrist.

"Cartman…!" Kyle gasped.

"What?" Cartman asked, nuzzling his face into the crook of Kyle's neck. The hand squeezed and rubbed, fanning the burning feeling that was tightening in his groin. Kyle closed his eyes, letting his head roll back on his shoulders. He let a moan escape his lips, and the hand released him. Cartman was so close he could feel him breathing.

"Let me make love to you." Cartman said softly, resting his hands on Kyle's hips. He saw the calm love in Kyle's eyes turn fearful.

"What?" Kyle asked, his breathing slowing.

"I want to make love to you before you leave." Cartman said, leaning in closer.

"Cartman, I can't…" Kyle said, pulling away from him. The thought threw cold water down his very spine. It made his gut clench and spiral up to grab his heart.

Cartman looked into Kyle's eyes. What the hell had he done now? The simple request looked like it had completely shocked his lover. Shocked and terrified him.

He extended a hand and put it on Kyle's knee. "It's alright. I won't hurt you." He said gently, slowly sliding closer to Kyle. Kyle backed up against the side of the car like a cornered animal. Cartman rolled his eyes inwardly. Jews. Skittish like field mice.

Kyle looked so nervous. Cartman was a bit ashamed to find that his pants had become uncomfortably tight at the thought of what he wanted to do to that nervous, quivering body. He put his hands to either side of Kyle's thighs. "Quit running away from me like I'm going to punch you or something." Cartman whispered.

He could hear Kyle's breathing, a bit of panic running through his breathing. "Kahl. It's me. You've known me for how long?" Cartman said. "Come into the house with me." He put a hand on Kyle's cheek, happy to see he didn't shudder or turn away. He rubbed the skin slowly with his thumb, calming the fear in Kyle's breathing.

"Cartman…I'm not sure." Kyle said quietly.

"I want to do this." Cartman said. God, he could barely contain himself. The Jew acting shy was only making him want it more. "I don't want you to leave me for this week without making you mine."

Kyle sighed and leaned his head into Cartman's hand. "I do love you, Eric. It's only for a week, and I won't lose myself. I know how to deal with religion." He said. Cartman smirked.

"You're my jew-rat, not one of their confused little children." He said softly, sitting back. He saw Kyle's resistance crumbling, his lover planting a kiss in his palm.

"Let's go in the house." Kyle said quietly. "You can carry me, fatass." He said with a smirk.

_____

Cartman shifted Kyle in his arms as he carried him up the stairs, cast and all. Kyle was nestled against Cartman's chest, hearing his heartbeat grow to a roar in his ears. He knew Cartman would be gentle, felt it was the right thing to do, but that didn't help the huge knot growing in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't fear, but it was something damned close.

Cartman's room was growing closer. Time was slowing down. Kyle couldn't help but think of his healing ankle, the broken window, his mother's plates, Butters' hospitalization, his talk with Stan…was it all to get him here? To make love to him? Cartman had been known to weave some elaborate schemes, but this would have made the top of the list.

So why didn't this bother him? Why wasn't he punching Cartman in the face and screaming at him for being such a manipulative bastard?

Kyle smiled softly when Cartman struggled to open the door while carrying him. Maybe he did really love Cartman. So this was going to be alright. He was going to lose his virginity…and he was going to lose it to Eric Theodore Cartman.

Ten years ago he would have punched the living daylights out of the person who told him he'd be in love with Cartman. Now, when Cartman laid him down on the bed, he couldn't feel more like the other boy was the right one.

It started with teasing kisses on his neck and throat that encouraged moans to come from his chest. Kyle put his arms around Cartman when the other boy straddled him, feeling Cartman's knees to either side of his hips.

"You don't know how long I've waited to do this to you." Cartman said between kisses down Kyle's neck, a hand sliding up Kyle's shirt and rubbing at his left nipple. Kyle turned his head to the side to allow Cartman better access to his skin. His flesh was growing hot, and the tweaks on his chest brought hot blood up to his face and down to his groin.

God, he was too hot. Kyle pulled his hat off his head and threw it on the floor. Cartman took the opportunity to pull Kyle's shirt up over the exposed mass of red curls. Kyle saw his lover's eyes scan down his pale chest, and his tongue flick across his lips. There was that light again in those soft chocolate eyes, the same one that had appeared in the kitchen.

Cartman slid the armband down his bicep, placing it on the nightstand. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it on the floor casually next to Kyle's. "Here we are again." Cartman whispered, laying down on top of Kyle. He made sure to support his weight on his elbows as he kissed Kyle.

Kyle felt skin on skin, his arms around Cartman. He stroked down the other boy's side, feeling the muscles underneath Cartman's fat. He felt the side muscles, hips…he felt Cartman smirk against his collarbone when Kyle stopped at cloth. "Seems like you want us naked already. We're taking this slow, Jew. I've had too much quick sex in my life." Cartman whispered in Kyle's ear, making him gasp and shiver when his teeth enclosed around Kyle's earlobe.

"I love you…" Kyle whispered, kissing Cartman's cheek.

Cartman brought his head up and pressed his lips to Kyle's. "I love you too, Jew." He reached between them, his hand rubbing between Kyle's legs. Kyle pulled him closer, panting in his ear. His breath was heavy with need, his hips rocking into Cartman's palm. "God you want this, don't you? Don't want to be a good little virgin anymore?" Cartman growled playfully, undoing Kyle's pants and pulling his zipper down.

Kyle leant his head to one side when he felt Cartman's fingers free him from the tangle of cloth and begin stroking. Rubbing slowly, so slowly he gave Cartman a bite on his ear. "Cartman…stop teasing me!" Kyle whimpered when he heard the larger boy growl.

"You want me to stop teasing you mm?" Cartman smirked and released his hold on Kyle, yanking the others' pants down and off. He tossed them casually over the side of the bed. He got off of Kyle and undid his own, struggling out of them and shoving them off the bed. "Turn over for a moment on your stomach, and lift your hips, Jew." Cartman purred.

Kyle swallowed thickly. "W-why?" he asked, his eyes looking up and down. They were both naked now. Kyle could see Cartman outsized him slightly in the length department, and was significantly broader.

"Stare at it all you want." Cartman smirked, grabbing his cock and stroking it quickly.

Kyle tore his eyes away, biting his lip. "Why do I have to turn over?" he asked.

"So I can prepare you. You didn't think I was just going to shove it in, now did you?" Cartman asked with a smirk, leaning down and kissing Kyle. Kyle slowly turned on his stomach, Cartman taking the time to put an extra pillow under Kyle's cast.

"Mm." Cartman gazed down at Kyle, running his fingers down Kyle's back. Kyle jumped slightly when Cartman brought the palm of his hand down on Kyle's ass with a sharp crack.

"Ah! You asshole…" Kyle whimpered and shifted, but didn't protest any further.

"So you like being spanked, do you…" Cartman grinned and rubbed Kyle's rear, then gave him another swat. He saw Kyle's hips lift slightly. Oh, he had pegged the little Jew right: a prude to the rest of the world, a slut in the bedroom. He cracked his hand harder across the skinny posterior, prompting another moan from Kyle. "Lift your hips up. Much as I enjoy this, I can't have you cumming yet." Cartman said, teasingly rubbing the pink, agitated skin.

Kyle shifted up on his knees, his front still laying on the sheets. He felt something warm and soft on his skin and blinked. Cartman was kissing him…down there? "Spread your legs." Cartman ordered, and Kyle spread one of his knees.

"The cast…" Kyle said softly. Cartman grabbed his left leg with surprising gentility and placed it where he wanted it, then Kyle didn't feel any contact from him. "Cartman?" Kyle was tempted to look back at what the other boy was doing. He cried out aloud and gripped the bed when something hot, wet and warm lapped up from his balls to the most intimate area he offered. "Cartman! T-that's not…clean down there…oh god…" Kyle squirmed helplessly as Cartman's tongue assailed him. His cock drooled onto the sheets and his face pressed against Cartman's pillow.

"Now I'm going to need you to relax, okay Jew?" The feeling died away and Cartman's voice pierced his fogged ears. Kyle nodded.

"Okay…" he whispered. "I feel fucking silly on my front like this."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of. I have to loosen you up first." Cartman explained, then began fishing around in the bed for something. "Oh god damn it." Kyle felt him get off the bed and wander around the room, pulling out drawers until he found something he wanted. A large weight shift when Cartman got back on, then something cold and slimy being poured over his hole.

"Ah…it's cold." Kyle bit the pillow, muffling his words.

"It's ok baby. It'll warm up." Cartman said gently. "Relax." Kyle felt the mocking voice creep into Cartman's tone. Cartman knew he was in complete control of Kyle's body…Kyle didn't know whether to feel scared or give himself up.

There was something probing back there, rubbing gently at his entrance. Kyle clamped up instinctively at first when it began probing inward, but a few kisses from Cartman on the small of his back relaxed him. The intruder slid inside and burning pain blossomed. Cartman felt Kyle's vice-like grip on his finger.

"It hurts." Kyle grunted, hiding his face in the sheets.

"It will for a few minutes. Push back, like you're trying to shove me out." Cartman ordered, feeling Kyle's muscles move against his skin.

The jew-rat was going to take a while to relax. Of course, after a few minutes of Cartman's finger inside of him he was back to panting.

Cartman smirked. Kyle felt like warm, wet velvet, pulling and exploring the intruder. Cartman envisioned how that would feel around his cock. Now he understood why men paid him so much for this privilege, but God only knew why they rushed into it. This slow, slow torture was delicious.

"How does it feel?" Cartman asked, experimentally sliding his digit back and forth, and then pressing upward slightly.

He was rewarded with a small, pleading cry. "You're hitting something…" he heard Kyle gasp when he pressed upward again and saw a shudder pass through the Jew's body.

"That's your prostate, idiot." Cartman said, pouring more lube onto his fingers. This was going to be fucking messy, but well worth it. "It's a little magic button that I'm going to be hitting later on." He pressed the first knuckle of the second finger inside. As expected, Kyle immediately clamped down, though the resistance was a bit weaker. He pressed on Kyle's prostate again and Kyle relaxed suddenly and with a gasp of air.

Cartman took the opportunity to slide in the second finger. "Cartman if you do that again I'm going to cum." Kyle threatened breathily, rubbing his cheek against the pillow. His legs were shaking and he now had a steady, thin rope of precum between his cock and the sheets.

Cartman pressed his fingers in and out of the tight, wet ring. It pulsed around him…he could feel Kyle's heartbeat. The throbbing was quick and hot, beckoning him in. "You have no idea how hot you are." Cartman said softly, adding a third finger. Kyle's breathing was quicker, his curls turning darker amber with sweat.

"It's starting to hurt again…" Kyle whispered.

Cartman nodded. "I thought it might. It's your first time. Here."

A brown glass bottle rolled down Kyle's spine and fell over his shoulder. Kyle opened it and took a sip, coughing and spitting it out. "It tastes horrible…" he whimpered. The fumes in his mouth were helping with the slight burn.

"What the fuck are you drinking it for?!" Cartman demanded, shifting to look at what Kyle was doing. Kyle moaned softly at the shift in Cartman's hand position. "That liquid's poppers, you idiot! You're supposed to inhale the smell, not swallow it! Close it up, I don't want you completely fucking high." He laughed and Kyle blushed, sealing up the bottle with shaking hands.

"Don't laugh at me…" Kyle whispered, feeling Cartman's hand running up and down his back reassuringly.

"Shh." Cartman said, pumping his fingers in and out of Kyle. Kyle shut his eyes, letting the feeling wash over him again. Cartman was stimulating him from the inside out, stoking that fire into life in his groin. "Are you ready?" Cartman whispered.

"Will it hurt?" Kyle asked as Cartman withdrew his fingers and let him lay on his back.

"It might, but you have to trust me." Cartman said, kissing Kyle and guiding him to spread his legs. He couldn't believe Kyle was letting him do this. Both of them were shaking in anticipation, though Kyle more visibly.

Cartman looked into Kyle's eyes as he stroked lube onto himself, and then put Kyle's legs over his shoulders. He kissed the Jew's leg, smirking at him. He pressed his cock forward, rubbing the head of his cock against Kyle's stretched entrance. A bit of pressure and Kyle opened up to receive him.

"S-stop…Cartman…it hurts…" Kyle gritted his teeth and grabbed handfuls of the sheets. Kyle leaned his head back, his mouth opened, gasping for air.

Cartman paused but didn't pull out, pouring a bit more lube where he saw them joined. He rubbed at the taut skin stretched over his cock. Gradually Kyle relaxed, looking up at his lover, and Cartman pushed himself deeper in. Kyle was tight, hot…the feeling was heaven.

"Are you really inside me?" Kyle asked as Cartman leaned forward, kissing Kyle's chest.

"I am." Cartman said, smiling and kissing Kyle's neck. He shifted his hips slightly and Kyle whimpered, shivering. It was turning him on so much to see how aroused Kyle was. Both of them were as hard as sheetrock. Cartman moved his hips back and forth experimentally, slowly, letting a moan escape his lips.

They couldn't contain themselves. Kyle pushed back against Cartman and the other lost control, pumping himself harder into Kyle. "God you little cock whore…" Cartman growled, forcing his eyes to stay open even as Kyle's were squeezed shut.

"Cartman…more…" Kyle begged, his back arched and his mouth open. Cartman's body beat against Kyle's skinny one, both of them crying out loudly. Kyle felt the fire Cartman had lit in his body become an inferno. Nothing made sense; stars burst behind his eyelids and all the blood was in his groin. The feelings wound together and concentrated themselves, pulling tighter and tighter.

Cartman shifted his hips down, forcing himself to rub against the spot he knew would drive Kyle wild. Kyle visibly held back a scream and his hips bucked. His body convulsed and Cartman saw him bite his fist, crying out against the skin as he came. Cartman kissed Kyle's leg with a grin, slamming into his delirious lover. He released inside of Kyle, letting a cry fall from his own lips.

He laid down on top of Kyle, trying to slow his breathing. "Jesus Christ Jew." Cartman whispered, kissing Kyle's sweaty neck. He was mildly surprised to feel Kyle's racing pulse under his lips. Kyle's hands rose and curled around him. "I love you so much." Kyle whispered softly, kissing any bit of skin his barely functioning mind could comprehend.

Cartman lifted himself off Kyle slightly, looking down at his lover. He brushed a few stray, red-orange curls back from Kyle's face. "I love you too, Kahl." He whispered.


	26. Nazis in the Bathroom

Alcorion – Actually, the first time doesn't have to hurt. If you take a lot of care in preparing your partner, it's not painful. Though, I did make Cartman a bit…ahem…broad in that area so it would cause a bit of pain. Poppers do help alleviate the feeling (though it makes you feel VERY light headed), but it also extraordinarily poisonous if swallowed.

NOTE: Yes, I know I use a racial slur in this chapter, and I'm sorry, but it suits the character and NOT me. Cartman's a racist fuck, and besides I doubt if anyone remembers this particular slur. So if there are any black people reading this, it's not meant to insult.

Oh, and because I haven't put this in a while…

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

______

Cartman sat down on his back porch, a cigarette between his lips and one earbud in. He hated feeling completely deaf to the world like some people with their MP3 players. Perhaps his line of work had made him paranoid about things like that. He sighed and took a deep breath from the cigarette, crushing the menthol ball hidden in the filter between his fingers. The taste and smell of mint smoke flooded his mouth and lungs, numbing the resistance to the nicotine.

Lady Gaga sang softly in his ears, a few snowflakes falling onto the red iPod. Kyle was blissfully asleep in his room, and had given Cartman more things to think about than he wanted to. Cartman could never fall asleep after sex anyway; the first time he had he had woken up to find he hadn't been paid. He blew smoke out into the air, resting his chin in his hand.

In a way, they'd both been virgins. Kyle was a virgin both senses of the word; physically and spiritually…Cartman spiritually. It was an odd feeling, knowing this was old hat as far as his days went, but somehow he felt it was special. Like he should be running around screaming at his stupid ginger neighbors or the annoying black people next door that he'd just lost his virginity.

He smirked at the thought and moved the song forward, past Manson's guttural voice to the relatively light folk music of Prussian Blue singing 'Skinhead Boy'. The twin Aryan girls sang sweetly in his ears, strumming away on their acoustic guitars as they spouted lyrics most respectable people would cringe at.

Cartman ran his fingers through his hair. Making love to Kyle was different. It had taken him to a plateau he hadn't thought possible with sex…he had thought it was all pain and business. His mother certainly did. But a few hours ago he had been trapped with Kyle in some exquisite third world, separate from heaven or hell. He breathed in more of the cigarette smoke.

How did Kyle feel? Would he regret this on waking up? Cry? Run home to his mother and swear he would never let Cartman do that again?

The boy smirked at the thought. Right. Kyle had enjoyed making love so much there was a half-hearted attempt at a second round before Kyle fell asleep.

Cartman finished off the cigarette and flicked it to land with its brothers in his back yard. He pulled out another and lit it with a red Bic lighter. He had a world of possibilities ahead of him when it came to sexual relations with Kyle. He'd already figured out Kyle liked to be spanked…what other fetishes could he scare out of his jew-rat? He grinned. That would be the fun part.

He heard a noise through the gentle singing of the twins and clicked the mp3 player off, scanning the dark fence. It was hard to see anything in the pitch blackness. "Who the fuck's there?" Cartman growled, putting the cigarette between his lips and standing up.

"Chill out skinhead, it's just me." Kenny put his arms over Cartman's fence, smirking through the dark at him. He had his hood down and his hair sticking up every which way. He looked like he'd recently had sex himself.

"Running around in the dark like a damn spade…" Cartman pulled open his back door and flicked the porch light on. "Jump over the fence, poor kid." He gestured. Kenny laughed and backed away, then ran at the old slat fence and leapt over easily.

He looked around at the sparse lawn illuminated by dim light, scarred with cigarette butts and a few bottles half-hidden in snow. "What the hell are these?" Kenny walked over to them and reached out his hand. "Don't. I know you've died a lot but opening those jars would be a very, very bad idea." Cartman said sharply, taking his seat on the steps again. Kenny withdrew his hand and crouched, peering at the odd brown liquids.

"Well what the heck is it, you crazy Nazi? Are you planning to blow up the school?" Kenny asked.

"It's an alkaloidal poison. The others are fermenting…I need to bring them in the house soon to thaw and rot." Cartman said casually. Kenny looked up at his friend with an eyebrow raised.

"You scare the shit out of me sometimes, Cartman." He said, walking over and sitting down next to Cartman. "So, did you do it?" Kenny grinned, picking up the pack of Camel Crushes and pulling one out before Cartman snatched the pack away.

"Those are fucking expensive you little shit." Cartman snarled, but didn't say anything when Kenny picked up his lighter and lit the cigarette anyway, breaking the menthol with a small crack. "If you must know, yes, Kyle's asleep in the room."

"So you fucked him. I just got Wendy." Kenny said with a smirk, breathing in the smoke deeply.

"Quit pressing the issue, poor boy." Cartman said, following in Kenny's example. He did take his pack and lighter to place to the other side, however. Kenny was worse than a Jew when it came to thievery. He did pay attention to the comment about Wendy, and stored it away for future blackmailing.

"You did." Kenny laughed and elbowed Cartman in the ribs. "You smell like sex and cigarettes, you can't lie to me. Judging by what I saw in the kitchen he should have been a little slut in bed. I know most girls I fuck are jealous of the ass he's got on him. Wish I would have known he was gay sooner so I could have tapped that before you."

Cartman raised a fist. "Keep talking, Kinny. Keep fucking talking." He growled.

Kenny laughed and raised his hands. "Easy. I don't want another beatdown, I'm just saying." He put the cigarette back in his mouth and waggled his eyebrows at his friend. "Time for my food now, Mother." He held out a hand expectantly.

Cartman lowered his arm. "Deal's off. Kyle and I don't really care if we're outed anymore. Well, I don't." he said. "I'm going to give him something. For when he goes to that gay reform camp."

"Wait, what?" Kenny raised an eyebrow. "I talked to Ike online but I thought he was joking about that. They wouldn't actually do that to Kyle, would they?"

"Fucking kike mother of his…" Cartman muttered, finishing his second cigarette of the night by stabbing the burning end into the concrete. "She's trying to pray the gay out of him. I'm going to give him this." Cartman pulled out a small vial and Kenny grinned, reaching for the intricate glasswork.

"Awesome! I didn't know you could make a pot pipe that small!" Kenny praised.

"It's a fucking poison vial, moron!" Cartman pulled it away from Kenny's hand. "It's got pure nicotine in it…very deadly. If someone fucks with him at that camp, I want him to use it. Even on the skin, it causes death within twenty-four hours."

Kenny raised an eyebrow, looked at his cigarette then the vial.

"Same shit. Even the same cigarettes." Cartman smirked. "Just a boiling process takes you from a relaxing smoke to the morgue."

Kenny stubbed his cigarette out on the concrete. "I don't want to die like that. Quick deaths I can deal with…but I'm sort of sick of dying, you know? I can't have a girlfriend who freaks out every time I get hit by truck or die of cancer." He said. "But you know, I have an eternal fresh start. I could sit in the highway, then come back and start a completely new life. Do anything I wanted. Kill a man. For you, you've killed people before and it's been no problem for you. But for Kyle? Do you really think…?"

"You know what they say. The first kill is always the hardest." Cartman said, folding up the leather thong around the glass vial and sliding it in his pocket.

________

Kyle woke up with a lazy smile on his face, stroking the pillow. He had just had the most beautiful experience of his life. It was still night; he hadn't slept that long. A quick glance at Cartman's clock told him it was around midnight. Kyle sighed and nuzzled his head into the pillow. Sometime during his nap he'd turned over onto his stomach. His cast was still stuck at an odd sideways angle. Kyle lifted his leg and shifted the heavy plaster boot with a grunt.

Something warm and wet slid down his thigh and onto the sheets. Kyle froze, terrified his bowels might have been loosened by Cartman's frantic thrusting. "Oh god." He whispered. "Did I just shit in Cartman's bed…?"

Cartman would never forgive him. He threw back the covers and struggled to sit up, clenching his buttocks. "Oh shit…shit..." he struggled around until he saw the wet spot and blushed. It was white…Cartman's semen was leaking out of him. He slid off the bed, embarrassed to find that more ran down the back of his thigh as he struggled into the bathroom to sit on the toilet. Kyle ran his fingers over his face, feeling somewhat embarrassed.

But he wouldn't have exchanged that experience for anything. Completely letting himself go, giving himself up to Cartman like that was both the riskiest and the most gratifying thing he'd ever done. Besides, he trusted Cartman now. He loved him.

When he didn't feel anything more coming out he wiped himself and flushed, sighing and dragging his leg back into Cartman's bed. It was hard as hell trying to get up on the tall mattress by himself. Having a ten pound weight on his ankle didn't help, of course. He crawled in a very ungainly fashion back into the soft warmth of the bed. Where was Cartman?

He lay down for only a few minutes, deciding to go look for his lover. He wanted to cuddle, wanted to be intimate with Cartman. To tell the truth, he hadn't expected him to be there when he woke. Cartman rarely had the patience for something as mushy as waking up to someone he loved.

Kyle pulled on one of Cartman's shirts, pleased to see that the hem hit his mid-thigh and allowed for quite a bit of modesty. He chuckled and lifted an arm. Cartman's biceps were huge. The sleeves looked like very short robes on him, but fit nicely on his lover. Kyle pulled the black cloth straight by the hem and looked down at it, groaning inwardly. Screwdriver. Did Cartman like any bands that weren't either nutty cross dressers like Marilyn Manson or skinhead rednecks?

Kyle sighed. It would have to do. He pulled himself slowly down the stairs and into the kitchen, drinking a bit of water from the kitchen tap. He heard a door open and close and smiled, ducking his head under the cool stream. He leaned over the counter purposefully and bathed his arms in the water, sticking his rear out. He felt the hem of the shirt tug up to reveal a few inches of tantalizing skin. The ginger rubbed the back of his neck with a wet hand, not surprised to feel hands around his hips, then running back to cup his rear. They didn't feel quite right, a bit smaller. He shut it out of his mind. Cartman would be the only one to do this to him.

Kyle moaned softly, pressing back into the hands. A finger strayed between his cheeks and nestled up against his hole, then slid inside and began pushing against his spot. "Oh God…Eric…I'm yours." Kyle pressed back against it, and heard a muffled laugh that made his blood run cold, then the rustling of fabric.

"Guess again." Kenny leaned forward and kissed Kyle's wet neck.

Kyle whipped around and cracked his hand against Kenny's cheek, struggling to pull the shirt down. Kenny rubbed the red skin and smirked, but only had time to open his mouth before a large bicep curled around his throat and dragged him back through the door he'd so foolishly left open. Kyle heard the sounds of a struggle then a loud, sickening crack.

Cartman came back through the door and shut it behind him, hugging Kyle to his chest with a swift movement. "If he ever does anything like that again, I warned him I'd kill him. Fucker will be back tomorrow with one hell of an ache in his neck." Cartman whispered, rubbing his hand up and down Kyle's back.

Kyle nuzzled into Cartman's chest. "I didn't know it was him." He whispered, his cheeks turning red. "I was trying to…uh…tease you."

"Like wearing that ironic statement of clothing, combined with your naked legs wouldn't already?" Cartman smirked and kissed Kyle's cheek. "What exactly were you doing with my sink?" He let go of Kyle, nodding to the sink.

Kyle cleared his throat. "I was grabbing a drink of water. I was looking for you…I woke up and you were gone." He said.

"I was having a smoke. Show me how you would tease me, Jew." Cartman ordered.

Kyle leaned over and sipped water from the running tap. He ran his fingers through his wet curls, staining them the dark colour of scotch, and pulled the hem of the shirt up a little. He yelped when Cartman gave him a swift smack on the rear. "Come on, kike. You have an early start tomorrow and you don't need to be teasing me with that ass." Cartman grinned, letting his hand linger for a moment.

Kyle looked at the back door nervously.

"No one's going to question Kenny's corpse, though you might not want to open that back door." Cartman said. "I swear on Hitler's grave if he ever, ever touches you sexually I'll break his legs and leave him in a mine shaft to starve."

Kyle winced. "Not a good thing to swear on. You're going to have to tone down a bit if you're going to be with me, Cartman. I mean, your keychain is fine, but I really don't need to see a Nazi Youth poster every time I'm going to the bathroom. I'm still Jewish, and it's still offensive. God help you if Token ever walks in your house" He said. Cartman made a small, derisive noise.

"He has. I told him Hitler didn't care about porch monkeys." He said dismissively.

"Cartman…language. But seriously. Poster goes." Kyle said, turning off the water and leaning against the counter.

"Like you don't want to see cute boys in uniform every time you handle your dick in the bathroom." He grinned, kissing Kyle's cheek. The other rolled his eyes.

"Only you would think that, fatass." Kyle playfully smacked Cartman's cheek.


	27. Die Höhle von Löwen

Alcorion – Kyle's so damn cute. I love him.

Angiie Autopsy – That he does! Kenny's always been such a perv. You can go back and review past chapters, I don't mind 3

Sorry I took a bit with this one guys. Thank you for all the thoughtful reviews and favorites!

______

Kyle woke up to the sharp beep of Cartman's alarm and the weight of something on his face. He frowned and pushed Cartman's arm off his mouth. "Cartman for fuck's sake." Kyle growled, feeling his back crammed against the cold wall. He was twisted at an odd angle, and Cartman's limbs were splayed everywhere. Cartman's leg was hanging over the bed and he was snoring loudly.

"Cartman wake up. Your leg is pinning my cast down. Eric." Kyle elbowed Cartman in the ribs. "You racist asshole wake up!"

Cartman turned over, curling his leg over Kyle's hip and grasping him closer. "Mm…gotta wake up first…" he purred, kissing Kyle's neck. Kyle glared at Cartman, shoving his curls out of his eyes and attempting to sit up. Cartman pushed him down urgently. "Quit it Jew." He whispered, cracking open one light brown eye.

Kyle rolled his eyes. "Cartman…I have to go. I promised my mother." He said.

"Mmcomin' too." Cartman mumbled. "Protect you."

"You just want to sleep with me at the camp and sneak around hurting people. Cartman, I promised my mother so I need to get ready for her and take my insulin. Would you really keep me in bed, in diabetic shock, because you want sex?" Kyle snapped, folding his arms across his chest. Cartman looked up at him.

"Maybe." He said flatly.

"God damn it Cartman let me up! Your lard is the only thing keeping me in this bed!" Kyle pushed Cartman's arms away from him and pulled his cast out from under Cartman's body with a grunt.

"Why do you want to go so badly, Jew?" Cartman sat up slowly and put his arms around the skinny boy's ribcage, kissing his neck. "Fine…" he muttered when the other boy gave him a dangerous look. Kyle stumbled off to the bathroom, the t-shirt still the only stitch of clothing he had on his body. Cartman grinned and lay back. What he would give to wake up like this every morning.

He let Kyle take his insulin shot and get dressed, happily ignoring the fact that Kyle forgot about the shirt he was wearing and just tugged pants on over his cast. Kyle set his medical kit on the nightstand, picking up his shoes and tugging them on. He snatched his hat off the floor and jammed it on his head. "Come on, Cartman, we're going to be late!" Kyle said angrily, throwing Cartman's clothes in his face.

Cartman growled and sat up. "Stop jewing me out of my time with you." He complained, pulling a shirt over his head. While Kyle was rushing about zipping up his backpack and making sure he had his insulin safely packed away, Cartman's foot grasped Kyle's shirt and quickly slid it under the bed.

"I'm not, we're just late! We slept late! We don't have time for breakfast." Kyle shoved his coat in his backpack while Cartman was lacing up his boots.

"There is no fucking way I'm leaving without breakfast." Cartman said stubbornly, raking his fingers through his short, nut-brown hair. Kyle picked up his backpack.

"Come on Cartman! You can get something later." He growled dangerously.

Cartman made a face. "I was going to give you something to protect you, Jew. Jesus." He leaned over and pawed around in the pile of clothes under his bed, finding where he'd thrown his jacket last night. He fished the necklace out of it and held it up.

Kyle sighed and looked at it, smiling softly. "I didn't think you'd be the sentimental type to give me a gift before I left." He said softly, approaching Cartman and taking the hand-blown glass vial. Cartman smiled and kissed his cheek, unclasping the string and tying it around Kyle's neck.

"This is a very potent poison, Kyle. Remember when I told you about my mother's little problem? The one that's currently buried in the backyard? If anyone fucks with you, drip this in their coffee. Do not get it on your skin." Cartman said softly, kissing Kyle's lips.

Kyle frowned. "I'm not going to hurt anyone." He said softly, kissing Cartman back.

"You might need to." Cartman answered back. "Go on ahead downstairs, I'll meet you there in a moment." His hand trailed down and squeezed Kyle's rear, earning him a soft slap on the cheek. Kyle shook his head and picked up his things, maneuvering carefully out of the room. He was getting used to using his cast to pin doors open.

The second Cartman saw the door click closed he ran to his computer and poked a few keys to wake up the monitor. He pulled up a few documents he'd kept minimized and hidden from Kyle…and for good reason. "Camp registrar…Kahl is in Cabin 3B, room 204. Rooming with Charlie West from North Park…oops, sorry Charlie." He grinned as he deleted the name. "Putting in Leopold…Stotch." Cartman finished the changes and updated them to the server.

Cartman snatched his cell phone off the nightstand and speed-dialed Butters.

"E-Eric? I can't talk. I'm in real trouble right now by golly. I'm not all recovered from that brownie and I got camp today. My parents are real sore. They say without it I might relapse into bein' bi again. I'm real weak-willed." Butters stammered nervously on the other line.

"Shut up Butters. I changed your cabin. You're in Cabin 3B." Cartman said, sliding the card into his pocket. "Do you have the jars I gave you?"

"Well yeah Eric but they're sealed up real tight and I can't open 'em or nothin'."

"They're welded shut. Look, now I need you to keep those in your bag, and make sure none of them are leaking. Is your boyfriend going to be there?" Cartman pinned the phone between his cheek and shoulder, grabbing his jacket.

"Now Bradley ain't my boyfriend. He's just a real nice kid I met there and we do stuff sometimes." Butters protested.

"Butters. Will he be there?" Cartman snarled.

"My counselor says it's real good of you to help out with the camp and everything, Eric. They're happy to have someone people like me can relate to. I'm not sure about Bradley, Eric. He says he's cured but he really likes my wiener for some reason."

Cartman gave the phone a disgusted look. "Ugh. Fine. Meet me there with the jars the third night we're at camp. That's when the parents come to see their kids. We're going to give that fucking cunt a reason not to mess with me. I'll pay you when this week is up." He growled.

He heard some static in the background and a loud yelp from Butters, then silence on the line.

"Who is this?" Mr. Stotch demanded.

"It's me, bitch." Cartman snapped.

"Ah. So, when are you open for business again?" Mr. Stotch's voice was a bit more gentle this time. Cartman rolled his eyes.

"I'm out of the business, Mr. Stotch. Givin' it all up. You better hope you get to the mail before your wife does, though. A picture's worth a thousand words, and they make a lot of small cameras these days." Cartman clicked the phone off with a smirk and slid it into his pocket.

He yanked open a drawer and pulled out a card with his picture and name.

'Eric T. Cartman, Camp Counselor'

_______

Kyle sighed and touched his lips for what felt like the hundredth time since he got in the car beside his mother. The vial he kept against his collarbone, the ornamental bumps on the vial pressing gently against his skin. Last night had been wonderful. One of the best experiences of his life by far…Cartman had done things to his body he hadn't thought possible or pleasureable. His lover had orchestrated him as flawlessly as one of his schemes.

Kyle sighed and looked out the window, refusing to meet his mother's little glances as she drove. He just couldn't shake the feeling that she _knew_ what had gone on in Cartman's bedroom that night. Ike had pinned it down instantly, welcoming Kyle to manhood with a whisper as soon as they had a few seconds alone in the car. But then again, nothing ever got past his brother.

Kyle took out his phone and looked at the text messages. All from Stan. They'd been talking back and forth on the long drive, updating each other. Stan was still supportive, even though he said Wendy hadn't approved of Kyle's choice in boyfriends. The last message told him that if Kyle needed anything, Stan would be just a phone call away, and that he would visit him on Visitor Day.

The jewish boy smiled. That was Stan, a friend to the end.

His phone buzzed in his hand and a number popped up. Cartman was texting him? He'd just left him forty five minutes ago. Kyle frowned and opened the message. A picture message? He sighed and downloaded it, expecting a picture of Mel Gibson or something to offend his mother. While it was loading he read the message accompanying the picture.

'Sumthing 2 remember last night by, joo.'

He rolled his eyes and opened up the picture, blushing and shutting his phone as soon as he recognized Cartman's cock.

"God damn it Cartman." He muttered under his breath, opening the phone slightly to see the picture again. He felt his mother's eyes burning into the side of his head and he backtracked to the main screen, sliding his phone in his pocket.

"I always thought he'd have a tiny dick. Must've hurt like hell." Ike whispered from the back seat, grinning.

Kyle blushed. "Ike shut up!" he whispered angrily.

"Kyle give me your phone. The camp doesn't allow any cell phones." Sheila spoke up from the driver's seat, handing her hand out expectantly but still keeping her eyes on the road. Kyle swore inwardly. Of course Cartman had to send him something dirty right when his mother suspected something!

"Kyle."

Her voice was getting that dangerous edge. But he had agreed to do this. He took his phone out of his pocket and opened up the back panel, taking the battery out. "Kyle just hand it over!" Sheila demanded angrily.

"You don't need to go looking through my personal messages, mom. If the camp doesn't allow cell phones then you shouldn't mind me hanging onto just the battery." Kyle snapped, replacing the panel and handing over his phone.

Moses, Cartman would be proud of him for thinking quickly like that. Maybe the heavy boy's manipulative nature was rubbing off on him? He banished that thought. If that were true then he and Cartman would have stopped being enemies a long time ago.

Surprisingly, his mother didn't push the issue and put the phone in her pocket. "Besides, I don't want the Cartman boy influencing you while you stay there if you have any chance of being cured. You agreed to give this a chance, Bubbalah, and I don't want him messing it up." She said. Kyle returned to looking out the window.

Would Cartman and his mother ever get along? In all honesty, probably not. He was too antagonistic to stop baiting her and she was too stupid to figure out that she played right into Cartman's hands by doing so. A trick that had worked on Kyle since they were small.

Kyle groaned softly when he saw the camp's friendly sign.

"'God can change anything'? What the hell are they, some insurance group?" Ike muttered from the back seat, earning a venomous glare from his mother in the rear view mirror.

Kyle looked around. The camp looked like any other institution, with kids wandering all over the place, adults with clipboards and plastic smiles…even log cabins with large friendly letters proclaiming cutesy names.

"'The Lion's Den, Cabin 1A'? Oh God." Ike said in disgust as they passed one particular cabin with a cartoon lion painted on a seal in front. "Hey, is that the Stotch van?" Ike pointed out the window.

Kyle followed his brother's finger. Sure enough, Butters was happily pulling a sleeping bag out of the soccer mom van as if it were any other camp. His parents were talking to a nearby counselor. There were trees all around them, dirt instead of pavement, but the air still had an oddly artificial flavor about it. Kyle couldn't quite pin it down.

His mother parked and Ike helped him pull his things out of the trunk. He was lucky he'd packed light for a week…he didn't mind doing any laundry while at the camp. He slung his backpack over one shoulder and took his sleeping bag roll from his brother. "Now I'll go check you in, Bubbe." Sheila said with a smile. "Why don't you go talk to Butters? His parents recommended this place and I'm sure he'd make a wonderful roommate." She took Ike's hand and moved off toward one of the clipboard-armed adults.

Kyle didn't have to make a single move. Butters was hugging him before he knew what was going on. "Hi Kyle! Eric said you'd be here! Don't worry about camp, they make brainwashing real fun. At least that's what Wendy told me. I think they're nice people." Butters said. Kyle rolled his eyes and patted the other boy on the back. Butters was still a little pale, and his breath had a bit of a wheeze to it, but he looked healthy enough.

"Hey Butters." Kyle smirked when the other boy backed off, grinding his knuckles together. "So where do I drop my stuff?" he lifted the sleeping roll with a smile.

"Oh, you gotta go through the inspection first." Butters said, biting his lip. "They just gotta make sure you don't have any men's underwear catalogs or anything. This one kid got caught with a dildo once, and by golly they let him have it. We just can't control ourselves."

Kyle shook his head. "Alright, let's get it over with. I'm glad to have one friend here at least." He put a hand on Butters' shoulder.


	28. Authoritah

Alcorion – Should scare ya. Scares me.

Do you guys realize something odd? I've replied to nearly every single review that has come while I'm writing a chapter? That's nearly 60 reviews! XD Damn I'm good. Love to every single one of you.

____

Kyle bit his lip, watching the counselors rip apart his backpack and go through his things. His laptop was laid aside, the clothes unfolded and looked through. "Young man, what is it you're wearing?" the counselor was a thin woman, with a nose that could double as a letter opener. Her eyes were small and beady, a shade of dark gray that seemed to embody malevolence.

Kyle looked down at the black, oversized shirt and his stomach turned sour. "I'm so, so sorry…" he apologized, folding his arms over Screwdriver shirt. There was no disguising the band, the men practically screamed 'racist'. "I'll have you know now that we do not tolerate any sort of racism here at the Christ Reformation Therapy Camp." She said sharply, looking up and down at him. She could probably tell the shirt wasn't his…it was three times his size and hung off of him like some sort of perverted graduation robe.

"I know ma'am. I'm sorry." Kyle apologized, his ears burning. "I'm not racist, I promise. I borrowed this shirt from a friend." It was obvious she didn't believe him from the way she packed his things back in. "I'll give this laptop to your mother. You're not allowed it. In the past campers have looked up frightful things on the internet." She said sharply, pushing his bag back toward him. "And change your shirt!"

Butters looked at him apologetically as he submitted his own things to be picked over.

Kyle's mother was waiting for him when he disentangled himself from the mass of young men, luggage and sleeping bags. "Now you read your Torah every night, Bubbalah. Let the counselors help you, it's what they're here for. For your confusion." She said softly, hugging Kyle tightly to her chest. Kyle stiffened against it. He was seeing her more and more as the enemy. An enemy he had to tolerate, but an enemy nonetheless.

Moses, he really was starting to think like Cartman.

He even felt his mouth tug itself into a soft smile as they walked to the car, waving goodbye at him. He waved back, shaking his head. He wouldn't change. He had Cartman's gift nestled against his chest, a grim and loved reminder of his boyfriend.

"Hey Kyle!" Butters smiled and approached him. "The parents are leavin'. I got through inspection a heck of lot quicker. We're in the Goliath and David cabin, 3B. Room 204. We're roomin' together!"

Kyle smirked, seeing how excited the cute little blonde was. He'd love to see the day someone got Butters laid, be it a man or a woman. Butters always seemed the sweet, submissive and romantic sort. Nice rear too, he noted as Butters led him to the cabin.

The squat building was wide and long, built more like a storage facility than a camp. The inside was a foyer, a small lounge with a few broken couches and board games. Then a long hallway that stretched all the way back to the large, shared bathrooms. "It's like the Shining." Kyle muttered as he stared down the narrow alleyway of carpet, following Butters' cheerful little humming.

The room was cramped, with two beds on either side the room and a small desk under a window between them. "At least we can talk before we go to bed. They lock us in at night so we're not little hooligans and go around stickin' our wieners where we shouldn't." Butters proclaimed happily, claiming the right side of the room.

Kyle chuckled and put his things on the left bed, not surprised to hear the bed groan under his backpack. "Think they do that on purpose?" he asked as he sat on the springs, hearing the small squeaks of old metal. Butters shrugged and opened up the single drawer the cheap desk had, pulling out the Bible and laying it in the light.

Kyle opened up his bag and leaned over, setting his copy of the Torah next to it. "So when do we meet the counselor of our cabin thing?" he asked as Butters began folding his clothes. He pulled off Cartman's shirt, replacing it with a plain brown one, then began imitating his roommate.

"Oh, soon as they announce it. We got intercoms in here." He pointed to a small white plastic grill next to the door with a single black button. "Don't press the button though. They get real sore if you start talkin' to people through the intercoms."

Kyle smirked and began unpacking, noting several mason jars in Butters' backpack. "Did your mom pack you jam or something?" he asked with a laugh. Butters blushed.

"Y-yeah." He said, though Kyle thought it sort of suspicious the way Butters shoved them under the bed as far back as they could go. "We ain't supposed to bring home food." He explained weakly. Kyle nodded, shrugging. The jars had looked sort of familiar; they must have been a similar brand to the mason jars Cartman kept in his basement.

"God I'm going to miss him." Kyle said softly.

"Ya mean Eric?" Butters said with a nod. "Yeah, he told me about you two. I think it's real sweet the way you fellas were all angry but now you've kissed and made up."

Kyle put his empty backpack next to his bed, sliding his folded clothes neatly underneath. "You have no idea, Butters. He made love to me before I left…God…it was the most intense thing I've ever felt in my life." He said, flopping back onto the bed to play with the bauble around his neck.

Butters smiled, but his cheeks were tinged pink a bit. "Well you know you gotta get fixed just like me, Kyle. My dad says the worst things feel the best." He said.

Kyle shook his head, letting the vial slide down to rest beside his head. "Butters, you don't get it. You're too innocent." He said softly, smiling and picking up the Screwdriver shirt. He pressed it to his nose, smelling Cartman's scent.

"That's Eric's shirt. You're gonna get in real trouble if they see that." Butters said nervously.

"Don't worry about it. I already got yelled at. Besides, I have to take some risks right?" Kyle said with a wink, tucking the shirt under his pillow. It barely fit…hell, it could be a spare pillowcase with its size.

He felt like an older brother with Butters around, even though they were roughly the same age. It was too easy to keep thinking of Butters like the nervous ten year old he had been, not the skinny boy with something suspiciously close to lip gloss on his lips sitting before him.

"All residents of cabins A1-4B Report to your lounges to meet your counselors. Cabins 1C-4C are going to have to wait a little longer; everyone's still arriving." The intercom buzzed. Kyle recognized the superior tone of the woman who had demanded he change his shirt.

"Guess we better get moving." Kyle said. "I hope the Dragon Lady isn't our counselor."

_______

"Mm…nyes…" Cartman's fist tightened around the riding crop, a sadistic grin spread over his features. His heart was heavy with joy, the promise of violence. His mouth watered at the idea of seeing split skin, the power, and the sheer authority of being given an entire cabin to run! This was more than he'd hoped for. Cabin 2A was his. This was his Reichstag. He was Fuhrer.

God, what he would give to have Kyle as his little sex kitten, leaning over and begging for it from his commander like good Jew.

"Authoritah." He purred the word, straightening his back in the chair he'd placed in front of the empty fireplace. The boys filed in, some of them in their early teens, a few a year or two younger than he was. Cartman's eyes were hard as he upraised them in the black polo shirt and jeans that were the unofficial dress of the counselors. The riding crop was for a bit of intimidation, added to what his size already commanded.

"Sit down, please." Cartman said patiently and evenly, resting the riding crop in his lap and rubbing his chin with the fingers of his spare hand. "I'm your counselor. You will address me as Cartman, or if you can't remember that, Commandant." It was a pity he saw neither Kyle nor Butters in the crowd. He would have loved an excuse to spy on both the redhead and the skinny blonde naked in their rooms.

The boys sat down awkwardly on the carpet, one of them pulling up a chair and sitting on it casually. Cartman's eyes locked on him. "You. Floor. I didn't say you had the permission to sit in the chairs yet. Chairs are for good boys who do exactly what I tell them." He growled, one side of his face curling into a nasty grin. It failed to impress his childhood friends any longer, but on some of the younger ones the effect was positively orgasmic.

They were terrified.

The boy in the chair slowly slid down onto the carpet with his fellows, eyeing the riding crop. "What's with the crop, dude?" he asked, one eyebrow raised.

"Oh, this little thing?" Cartman stood up, prompting a small shudder. "This is for boys who get on my nerves. Now, there will be rules in this house. Rules that are to be followed to the letter. I've already given you the first…what you will address me as. The second I will say only once. There are a lot of woods surrounding you. No cops. No mothers." He slid a hand up the shaft of the crop. "Don't be one of my little accidents."

A hand raised tentatively. Cartman rolled his eyes. This pre-school shit was undermining the massive erection he was getting handling the crop. "Commandant, are all the other boys getting counselors like you?" the boy asked quietly. Cartman appraised him with a critical eye.

Red hair, light skin, freckles. Perfect. "You better hope to God they are. You're lucky, you filthy little ginger…which brings me to the third rule. Segregation." Cartman said sharply.

"Dude, there aren't any fucking girls here." One of the older boys spoke up from Cartman's left.

Cartman struck quickly, smacking the leather triangle of the crop against some unknown part of the interrupter's face. By the yelp, it must have been a sensitive part. "Excellent point." Cartman said. "Gingers room with gingers. Those without souls need special treatment to cure them of their disease. Blacks room with blacks. Mexicans with Mexicans…though thank God I don't see any here or they'd be cleaning the toilets."

A few of the faces gaped. "Anyone like to comment? Every culture has a distinct way of dealing with the curse of homosexuality. It is easier for me to communicate with you separately rather than all at once." Cartman explained with a roll of his eyes. He'd need to lighten up to avoid these little shits running to the other counselors, but he'd heard that this was a system very similar to the cops'. They'd sooner believe him than some snot-nosed brat they were trying to cure. There was a small wave as heads shook. At least they didn't want to question his methods.

"You have this day to get settled in, then we do some activities to get to know each other. I don't know, we're required to do it. I couldn't give a shit about your names." Cartman muttered, glancing at a sheet resting on the hearth. Damn the other counselors for giving him this stupid 'first-time counselor' list. He knew how to control his bitches.

The boys looked at one another questioningly. Cartman counted them silently. Twelve. Two around seventeen, the rest between the ages of ten and fourteen if he had to guess. Authoritah was always best used on people younger than he was. The two seventeen year olds looked like they would be trouble. One of them was the boy he'd smacked with the crop, rubbing his cheek and glaring at Cartman.

The younger ones were either listening with rapt attention or were shrinking back nervously.

"So you're all here because you're little faggots." Cartman said casually. "So…if I see one eyeball start straying to asses, kissing, or holding hands there will be trouble. Hand holding gets you a few good smacks with my baby." He swished the crop in the air with the deft flick of a wrist. "Kissing gets you a night cleaning my quarters…naked. Groping and running off…oh you don't want to know what the punishment for those are. But you'll find out if one of you strays, because it will be public. And extremely humiliating." Cartman curled his fingers around the crop again. "If you get on my good side, there will be rewards. Good, nice rewards little fags like you will enjoy immensely. I'm here to cure you, and if I have to beat it out of you I will get you to like pussy."

A few snickers out of the younger ones didn't diminish the effect. He'd find them out later. "My quarters are in the exact middle of the hallway. The rules around here dictate that I have to help you if you're going to be suicidal. Just don't get blood on the carpet." He said dismissively.

"Wait, isn't that the prayer room?" One of the older teens asked with a glare.

"My own sanctuary. God is everywhere. You don't need a room to pray in." Cartman snapped stiffly. More hands raised, perhaps emboldened by the interruptions of the older boys.

"Sir? What about snacks and things? I mean lunches and breakfasts?"

Cartman sighed and looked at the sheet. "Served at seven am sharp, twelve noon, and seven pm respectively. No snacks. Those are for me. You little sinners don't deserve them." He pointed out matter-of-factly. "You serve two masters. Me, then the Lord God."

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" Another boy asked.

"As far as you're concerned…" Cartman growled softly, leaning forward. "…they're the exact same thing."

_______

Kyle woke with start to Butters elbowing him ferociously in the ribs. Their counselor was smiling so sweetly she made Kyle sick to his stomach. She spoke to them like a bunch of kittens she was trying to coax out of the brush or retarded toddlers that needed feeding. She was a pretty thing, small, waiflike, with a clipboard on her lap and her tangled brown hair yanked back in a ponytail.

"That's Miss Verlaine. She's real nice." Butters said with a smile. "We're lucky to get her, she likes doin' all sorts of fun things like going swimming and readin' the Bible."

Kyle groaned and put his face in his hands. Sitting cross-legged on one of the overstuffed couches while some woman laid out hygiene rules was not an ideal afternoon. Butters…he looked over at the other boy, who was wiggling in his seat and nodding at every word. Butters could have fun at an insurance seminar. Kyle wanted Cartman to be there with his biting commentary, shutting her up.

She was nice, but the biblical saint in her was so strong he could have sworn she had a halo above her head. "Butters. This woman sort of makes me want to go commit mishkav zakhar." He muttered.

"What's that?" Butters asked.

"Sins of the flesh. Least it's more interesting than her teaching us to brush our teeth every night and pray next to our beds." Kyle muttered.

"Now look at your roommate. This is your accountabilabuddy. Your accountabilabuddy will hold you accountable for every slip you have, and help you back up on the right path. If you don't know how to pray, then ask your accountabilabuddy how, or read your Bibles together. Now, I did hear we have someone of the Jewish faith here. Will you raise your hand young man?" she asked, smiling and looking around the small crowd.

Kyle sighed and waved his wrist noncommittally.

"I want you to feel just as comfortable worshipping as the rest of us, mister…?"

"Kyle. Kyle Broflovski." Kyle said tiredly.

"Yes, Kyle. Hopefully you can teach us some Jewish ways of praising the lord, maybe a few songs in Yiddish? Wouldn't that be fun, kids?" she looked around at the boys.

Kyle rested his head back against the couch. Butters was right. This camp did have a lot of suicides, and the reason was beaming a plastic smile at them from the front of the room.


	29. Hungry like the Wolf

Alcorion- That is one of the best compliments anyone could ever give me. Thank you so much! I hope I get Butters and the Goth as accurate.

Ok as many of you know, is having a real problem with authors not being able to upload chapters. If you take an existing doc and post your new chapters onto it, somehow it works. It just wont allow new chapters. So yea, uploading's going to be a bit wierd till they fix it. Hey, least I found a way to upload! Love you guys!

All characters belong to Matt and Trey, I'm just borrowing them.

____

"Put your backs into it!" Cartman snarled, cracking his crop across the back of one of the boys. "Toilets don't clean themselves." He took his cigarette out of his mouth with his spare hand, smirking at the group cleaning the bathroom. "How are those showers coming, my little janitors?" he asked, peeking into the large communal shower.

"Fuck you." One of the boys snarled, his next insult cut off by the deft crack of Cartman's weapon.

"That's fuck you, Commandant." Cartman said lightly, smiling. "Your rooms were inadequate. I want you all to dust them again." He walked out of the bathroom, crop under his arm. The boys glared at his wide back as he disappeared into the narrow hallway.

"I can't believe my parents are paying for me to clean bathrooms." One of the boys muttered.

"Maybe he's right…that it's about humility." Another one piped up softly, but was silenced by the murderous looks he was receiving from the others.

"He needs to be stopped." The eldest stood in the showers, throwing his sponge down into the bucket of soapy water. "Boys, I know we're here to be cured because of our parents, because of ourselves. But we need to get out from under the foot of this fat bastard."

The others put down their brushes and nodded in assent.

Meanwhile, Cartman was in his self-proclaimed office, leaned back in a chair that was originally used for the boys to confess their sins. He had his crop on his desk, boots put up on the edge of the wood. He sighed softly. He should be happy…thrilled to have boys willing to bend under his will. Attractive, confused boys. Of course, some of them were scum like that teenager and the ginger kid. But they were just chaff to be weeded out and thrown away.

He wanted Kyle.

A fantasy was churning in his head…Kyle on his knees in this very same office, hands gently on Cartman's thighs and his head bobbing up and down in his lap. Servicing him, writhing on the desk for him, legs spread and fingers sliding in and out of himself. The vision of mere nights ago, of Kyle's back arched and his beautiful red curls soaked in sweat, orgasming and crying out his name. Of thrusting himself into that tight passage that hadn't known so much as a finger before that night.

He gave an involuntary shudder and shifted his erection in his pants.

"God damn it." He growled. It was too soon to reveal himself as a counselor here at the camp. Kyle had no idea he was here and would lose that delicate ginger temper of his if he knew. He had to wait for the parents to arrive, for his plan to take effect before he revealed himself. Or even better, to make it seem as if he were never there.

But he couldn't stand this torture.

"Leon Stoltsky in my office right now, you fucking ginger." He snarled into the intercom on his desk. He folded his fingers on his belly, growling and shifting his hips. His hardon was not going to go away any time soon. When the small ginger boy slid into his office his eyes slid up and down him coldly.

Nowhere near as beautiful as Kyle.

Instead of alabaster skin this one had flesh bordering on uncooked pork. His hair was a light carrot orange and freckles marred his features. Inquisitive green eyes met his brown ones and looked away quickly. "Yes, Commandant?" he asked quietly. Cartman rolled his jaw, as if considering what he was about to do.

"Strip." He waved a hand.

"Sir?"

"I said fucking strip." Cartman growled, lifting his front lips to expose his teeth. Leon looked at him nervously. Cartman made a move to pick up his crop.

"O-okay! Okay." Leon whimpered, pulling his shirt over his head. Cartman settled back to watch.

"Do it slowly. I said strip, not to just fucking take off your clothes." He growled angrily. He grew even more frustrated when Leon slowly let his pants down. Chicken legs, with red hair growing on the calves. Disgusting. Kyle's smooth, graceful legs were eternally stuck in his head. Even this ginger's chest couldn't compare to the smooth slope of Kyle's ribcage, of those teasing feminine hips. Kyle managed to make even that hideous hat sexy while this stupid soulless piece of shit shook in his tightie whities.

"Ugh. You disgust me." Cartman muttered. Leon bent to pick up his pants but Cartman shook his head.

"Dance for me, faggot." He said, setting his jaw firmly.

Leon began shifting his feet uncomfortably. Cartman slammed one of his heels down on the wood of his desk, making Leon jump. "No, I said dance. Like the fucking whore you are. Amuse me you idiot ginger. You have no soul, no scruples. Do it." He growled deeply.

Leon bit his lips, but obeyed. He swung his ugly, sunken hips from side to side, sliding his fingers down his front. It took Leon a few moments, but he began relaxing, stroking his fingers over the front of his underwear. Cartman let a hand stray down to rub himself, but he was losing his erection looking at this boy. "Come here." He gestured impatiently, and Leon shuffled forward, covering himself.

"Quit it." Cartman snapped the crop across Leon's hands. "Get on your knees under the desk."

_______

Kyle threw his hat down on his bed, making a disgusted expression flash across his features. "God! If I hear one more chorus of Hava Naghila I will shoot myself!" he snapped, flopping down on his bed. Butters was smiling as he followed him in.

"I thought it was pretty fun, Kyle." He said, patting Kyle's shoulder. "It's ok, the teacher was just tryin' to make you feel better 'bout bein' Jewish. She wasn't tryin' to hurt you or nothin'. It's a catchy song." He smiled.

"It's a wedding song, Butters. All men, singing a wedding song. Do you know how ironic that is that we'd be singing that in a gay reform camp?" Kyle said, one eyebrow raised as he lifted his head to look at Butters. The other boy was blushing slightly as he pulled his pajamas out from under his bed.

"It's ok Kyle. Least we get to go eat dinner in our pajamas." Butters said with a grin. "Then we get to sing songs and sit around a campfire talkin' about our struggles and how we can talk to girls better."

Kyle groaned. "Butters, I don't want to talk to women…not about romantic things. I have Cartman. He's about as romantic as a bloated corpse but at least he loves me." He said. "I'm hoping he'll improve."

Butters frowned. "Now Kyle you gotta stop talking about Eric like that." He said sternly. "By golly, how are you supposed to get over him when you're talkin' about loving him?" he put his diminutive hands on his thin hips. He pulled his shirt over his head then his pajama front on. "I mean jeez, you need to start thinkin' about better things. Like you can grab one of them Playboy magazines from the counselors."

Kyle made a face. "That's worse than singing wedding songs." He muttered. "Besides how can you like women like that, Butters? They're a bunch of ugly coke whores with breast implants. You should like smart women. I don't know…like Sigourney Weaver or something."

"Ew. Kyle, she's old enough to be my gramma." Butters said, giggling as Kyle turned away to allow him to put on his pajama bottoms. "You comin' to dinner in your clothes?" he asked, nodding toward Kyle. The other boy nodded his head.

"Yeah." He said. "I just don't feel comfortable."

"Aww shucks Kyle. Come on. You gotta at least try." Butters said, picking up Kyle's plaid pajama bottoms and handing them to him. He smiled softly.

Kyle smirked. "Alright." He muttered, pulling his shirt over his head and knocking off his hat with it. "Do you think they mind if I come without a shirt?"

Butters shrugged.

_________

Kyle was regretting the decision as soon as he stood in line outside with his plate, getting cornbread and chili heaped onto it. His nipples were harder than hell in the cold Colorado air, and goosebumps were rippling across his skin. He shivered and grabbed a plastic fork, sitting next to Butters on the picnic table.

"God it's fucking cold." Kyle muttered. Butters giggled next to him as he spooned chili into his mouth.

"Well you shoulda worn your jacket." He said.

"I thought we'd be somewhere inside. Isn't there a dining hall here?" Kyle asked, gratefully filling his belly with the warm food. Butters nodded.

"Well yeah but they said we'd be havin' Campfire Night, Kyle. You need to listen to our counselor better." He admonished gently. Kyle rolled his eyes as another boy sat across from them, eyes narrowed down at his plate.

"I fucking hate our counselor!" he growled, stabbing his fork into the cornbread. He looked around Kyle and Butters' age. He was a little small for his age, making him seem younger.

"It's okay, Leon. We get new counselors every year." Butters said cheerfully.

"Wait, I know you. Leon Stoltsky? Gordon's brother?" Kyle asked. The other boy nodded sadly. "Christ dude, I'm sorry." Kyle said softly. Butters nodded.

"It's ok. That was a long time ago." Leon said.

"So what about your counselor don't you like? Ours is a real nice lady." Butters said with a smile.

"Ours is a fat fucking pig." Leon growled into his food. "He made us clean all the bathrooms and our rooms on the first day, and he runs around with a riding crop hitting people who were slow. He makes us call him Commandant. His name is Evan or some shit."

Kyle froze. Oh no. It couldn't be. He looked at the other kid. "Is he sort of tall and muscular, but has a bit of a stomach? Always wears combat boots?" he asked. Leon gave him a look as he chewed, but nodded.

"Yeah, you've seen him too? He's a real asshole."Leon said, shoveling another bite in.

"Aw, don't worry Leon. It's all for our own good, remember." Butters reminded him.

"Oh, so being forced to strip in his fucking office and getting a boot in my face was part of the fucking routine?" Leon snarled angrily. "He doesn't even call me by my name! He calls me Ginger all the time and he says I have to have a room by myself because I don't have a soul. What sort of fucked up camp is this? I mean, look at this!" Leon showed his face in the firelight properly. One eye was almost swollen shut and he had a nasty bruise spreading under his chin.

"I had to tell the fucking counselors I slipped in the showers." The ginger muttered.

Kyle's blood ran cold.

"Leon. Is his name by any chance Eric Cartman?"

_____

Cartman sighed as he sat alone on the edges of the camp with his plate, stirring the food around unenthusiastically. The whole fiasco with Leon had been a mistake. He had gone limp as soon as he had felt the other boy anywhere near his dick. Leon had been totally prepared to suck him off. After a few minutes of awkwardness he'd actually gotten into dancing and started rubbing himself. Cartman had only felt increasingly icy. Once Leon got under the desk, he became frustrated and kneed Leon's head into the top of the desk then kicked him in the face. He couldn't believe he'd wanted that gap-toothed mouth anywhere near his crotch.

Kyle was the only one who made him feel on fire like that. He bit into his cornbread, sighing deeply. He still had his plan to look forward to. Kyle's mother was making him suffer through this place…so Cartman was eliminating it. No one, especially this hippie camp gone wrong, was going to fuck with his Jew. And the jars Butters held would serve as a warning. While everyone else was with their parents, Cartman had a very special present for the counselors…and Mrs. Broflovski.

He looked at the other kids eating their dinner, plucking out Kyle next to Butters. Kyle wasn't wearing a shirt…his little pink nipples were standing out to the night air, and his pants were low enough on his hips to make Cartman's pulse pick up. It took every bit of self-control Cartman had not to grab Kyle and drag him into the woods to fuck him like an animal. He'd shove him into the dirt and mount him like a fucking wolf.

Cartman sighed and looked up at the sky. Ok, this was torture for both of them. "How the hell did Jews survive in camps with no pussy." He muttered under his breath.

"Oh hey there Eric. Look, we're gonna get all the kids together and have our little discussions. Why don't you take your cabin over to that fire over there and get them to open up. Talk about how their homosexual experiences are hurting their families and maybe how they can improve their dirty thoughts and habits." Another counselor said, putting her hand on his shoulder and smiling down at him.

Cartman resisted the urge to slap her hand away.

"Fine." He muttered, standing and shoving his plate into the soapy bin with the rest of the dirty plates.


	30. Breaking Jars

Alcorion- Oh yes…get me some red hair and a pair of those beautiful green eyes and I'll have them bent over the nearest elevated, horizontal object. ~cough~ not to get risqué or anything.

Angiie Autopsy – I'd been missing your reviews, girl! But I guess it's finals week all around so we're all suffering. Glad I finally get another from you! I always look forward to it. I've been jumping like a jackrabbit every time I see the [Review Alert] thingy.

__________

For about the third time in his life, Eric Cartman felt like he might have a revolution on his hands…and he was nervous. The boys of his cabin glared at him, huddled against the fire. Other counselors were talking animatedly with their troupes. The Commandant's looked like angry villagers about to overthrow a monarch. Cartman cleared his throat, feeling naked without his crop.

"So….I'm supposed to tell you that your feelings are hurting your families. That the fact you fags want to suck dick and screw other guys is doing something to damage you psychologically." Cartman began, tenderly feeling out to find how he was going to be received amongst the gang. "I hate these stupid little fireside chats and I think you guys feel the same."

The scowls grew deeper.

Cartman breathed in. "So how do you think you can stop being fags?" he asked, immediately narrowing in on Leon. The ginger looked down at his feet and rubbed his arm. "Someone speak up." Cartman lowered the tone of his voice, baring his teeth.

"Look, Commandant…we don't like you." The eldest of the group spoke up, narrowing his own eyes. "We never have, we never will. We came here to be helped, and if you're trying to do that then you're going about it the wrong way."

Cartman stiffened. "I have authoritah here, at least for a few more days. Do you honestly think this camp is going to help you change something I tried to change all through my childhood?" he shot back angrily. "This is a fucking sham your parents are using to help themselves. No one else. Adults are like that. They won't fucking accept the fact they can't change you until you're fucking some hot piece of boy ass in a faraway city, out of college and their protection."

The boys looked genuinely surprised, a few of the younger ones looked concerned, frightened even.

"You can't change this. Some of you will grow out of it genuinely, some of you will kill yourselves in your mid-teens, and the last of you…the lucky fucking few, will live full lives." Cartman said stiffly.

"To be fair, some of us wanted to be here for a cure. I was forced to come here." The eldest said, sighing and shaking his head. "But it's not fair for you to say that. How can you be so damned sure?"

He felt extremely uncomfortable with all these eyes on him. A few that were outside his own circle. Cartman looked up to see Kyle a few fires away, glaring deeply at him.

Shit.

He was caught.

____________

Kyle marched up to Cartman after the campfires had disbanded for a game of flashlight tag. "I thought you said you would let me do this!" he hissed angrily. "I thought you were going to let me have this, a week just to satisfy my mother! Do you realize what will happen if she ever finds out about this?" he demanded, grabbing Cartman by the front of his shirt.

Cartman smirked. "Knew you missed me." He grinned.

Kyle felt like slapping the smirk right off his face. "Cartman…what happened with Leon?" he growled, feeling hot tears rise up to his eyes. "I can't believe you…did you let him? Tell me!" he shook the black cloth gripped in his fingers, his breathing quickening.

Cartman looked past Kyle. They were being watched. He grabbed Kyle by the back of the neck and pushed Kyle's hands away from the front of his shirt. He began to march him toward the tree line, putting his face in a concrete expression. As soon as he released the ginger, Kyle's hand cracked across his cheek. "Don't you ever handle me like that again!" he shouted.

"They were looking." Cartman rubbed his cheek. "Nothing happened with that kid. I just sort of lost it, Jew. What is it to you?" Kyle's hand snapped across his cheek again so quickly he barely had time to grab the Jew's wrist.

"You made him strip in front of you!" Kyle shouted, tears streaming freely down his cheeks. He pulled at Cartman's grip, feeling the stronger boy pull him close and slid his arm around Kyle's waist. Cartman pressed his lips against Kyle's, keeping his hold on the Jew. Cartman pulled his head back after a few seconds, expecting a third slap.

"I love you, Jew, why can't your distrustful little rat mind understand that?" Cartman growled. Kyle searched in Cartman's brown eyes for some sign of betrayal, some indication that Cartman was lying. He relaxed after a few minutes, resting his head on Cartman's chest.

"I'm going crazy here." Kyle whispered, feeling Eric's arms wrap around his back and hold him. "All they say is that we need to change, that we're sick. The dreadful woman that's been watching our cabin, I can't fucking stand her." He hid his face in Eric's chest, breathing in the other boy's scent. Eric kissed the top of his head, smirking.

"I've got to go back with fucking red cheeks now, you stupid Jew." Cartman growled, kissing Kyle's ear. Kyle chuckled and sighed softly.

"Ah, I'm never going to control you, am I?" Kyle said softly, lifting his head to meet Cartman's lips. Cartman pressed his body against Kyle's, then looked back at the camp.

"In your fucking dreams. Come on." Cartman whispered, grabbing Kyle's hand and leading him back toward the soft lights of the dying fires. "This boy needs stern talking to about the righteous way." He explained to a counselor who looked like she was about to speak. "I'll be talking to him in my office. Don't disturb us." Cartman added as an afterthought.

Kyle did his best to look nervous and frightened, when on the inside he was jittery with happiness. After being away from Cartman for only a day, he felt like he had been without food or water…even though he had been furious with his lover for not letting him honor his mother's wishes. Cartman pulled him to a large room and shut the door behind them, locking it quickly. "Get naked and get on the desk." Cartman commanded breathily, pulling off his shirt.

Kyle laughed and leapt up on the desk, smiling coyly. "I'm already not wearing a shirt." He said, tucking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants. He tugged them down, elegantly sliding the fabric down his legs. The simple action was enough to make Cartman's eyes glow with lust.

"I noticed." Cartman picked up the crop from beside Kyle, weighing it in his hands. "I still have to punish you for being an abomination, Kahl." His voice dipped into the low purr that made Kyle's body shiver. The Jew slid down so his feet touched the floor and turned around, laying his front half on the desk. He felt a hand on the back of his neck, pressing him down into the wood, and the first stripe of the crop laid across his rear.

Kyle moaned, nuzzling into the desk and tightening his fingers against the wood with each successive crack. The sting he felt from the crop translated into an exquisite pain by the time the messages reached his brain, making him all the more sensitive when Cartman dropped the crop and fiery fingers traced the welts.

"I hit you pretty hard, Jew." Cartman sounded pleased with himself as Kyle felt a light slap on his rump. Even a gentle tap sent an acid-like burn up his body. Kyle lifted his hips and felt a needy mewl come from his throat. "Be patient, dammit." He heard Cartman hiss, heard him fumble in his pants for lube and pop open the top.

Cartman pulled back gently on Kyle's neck, and when his lover sank into him Kyle's mouth opened to pant against the cheap pressed wood of the desk. Cartman didn't go slow this time. He slammed Kyle's hips against the front of the desk with his own, causing his Jew to cry out. His fingers tightened on Kyle's neck and he pulled back. This time Kyle's entire body shifted upward and Kyle screamed joyfully.

"Faster!" The Jew commanded breathlessly. Both of Cartman's hands fell to his waist and Kyle cried out with each successive thrust, begging Cartman for more, hips raised and voice mewling like a cat in heat. Cartman gave him all he wanted, roughly shoving him against the piece of office furniture.

"Are you my fucking cock slut, Kahl?" he growled, digging his fingernails into the soft skin on Kyle's hips.

"Yes…" Kyle whimpered, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears. "God yes…!"

The minutes seemed like weeks, the pleasure seeming to slow down time until Kyle's orgasm shattered the clock and yanked him back to reality. His hips jerked in Cartman's iron grip and cum spurted against the front of the desk. All of Kyle's muscles seemed to contract, forcing his lover to release inside of him.

Kyle lay against the desk, panting, his knees threatening to collapse on him.

"You're cleaning the front of my desk, Jew." Cartman panted in his ear, giving him an affectionate kiss on the sweaty neck he'd been clutching.

__________

Butters looked at his watch. Where was Eric? He couldn't believe he was doing this…he wrapped a spare shirt around his face, covering his nose and mouth. Cartman had instructed him to have no part of his body having exposed skin. It was hard to see with saran wrap around your eyes. He looked like a silly Asian with his skin pulled all funny by the thin sheet of plastic.

He set the first jar on the ground and picked up a large stick, closing his eyes. He whacked the top off the concoction and an unholy smell flooded his senses. He gagged, stumbling back from the jar that had unleashed its evil. Cartman had said the most potent bacteria would be on the lid of the jar…he gingerly approached it and kicked the jar over, spreading the contents on the ground as instructed.

The parents were coming tomorrow.

Cartman had said he wanted everything perfect…this meant his jars had to be in certain places and left where the sun would hit them and evaporate the water in the jars that had been spoiling the contents. Butters picked up the lid of the jar he'd kicked over. There was a thick brown residue on the underside of the lid where the surface of the water had barely touched it.

Butters took out a spoon he'd stolen from the cafeteria and gently scraped it off. Once it dried, he was instructed to pour it over the coffee they'd be serving the parents. Butters didn't know what was going to happen to them. He was just too scared to screw up. Eric had promised him that if he failed and put his relationship with Kyle in jeopardy, no one would find his body out in these woods.

The skinny blond knew the other was serious.

He tapped the sludge into a spare baby food jar and sealed it. Hamburgers this seran wrap was hot! He panted behind the makeshift mask, feeling his own breath warm against his cheeks. It was suffocating…barely any air got in, though Cartman had told him that was the point. He apparently didn't want to be breathing whatever it was he was spreading on the ground.

Butters grabbed the other two jars and scurried across the camp, hoping he would finish the setup before he passed out from lack of air. Everyone was off playing flashlight tag…why couldn't he be joining them instead of doing Eric's dirty work?

Leopold Stotch sighed as he smashed the second jar's lid open and poured the thick blackened sludge out behind the dining building. He knew why.

Because he was Eric's best friend.

_________________

Stan tilted his head at the message that had been stuck in Cartman's door.

"Hey."

He looked behind him to see the slightly overweight goth girl Kyle had his arm around a few weeks ago. "So you got a text message from that Cartman kid too right? About meeting someone here?" Henrietta rolled her eyes, taking a delicate breath from her cigarette holder.

Stan shrugged and picked out the three twenty dollar bills from the folded note, handing them to her. "Cartman said these were for you. For covering Kyle's sexuality up." He said. "And we're supposed to meet someone with the code-name Flap-jaw. God, knowing Cartman it's another one of his fucking schemes." Stan sat down heavily on the cement steps, putting his head in his hands. "I hope Kyle's alright."

"He can take care of himself. Least he found out that the Broflovski kid was paying me…he forgot after the first week. Stupid." Henrietta muttered, looking out onto the street to see a familiar orange figure heading toward them. Kenny pulled down his hood, eyes red and rubbing the back of his neck.

Stan nodded at him and Henrietta rolled her eyes.

"Given the amount of ass-kicking I've received at this house in the past few days…" Kenny said, eyeing the front door. "…you won't mind me asking if the crazy Nazi is actually home?"

Stan shook his head. "He's gone to the camp with Kyle. He said something about getting rid of Mrs. Broflovski once and for all. I don't think he's going to kill her though." He said softly. "He also said not to bring my…" he lifted the paper up. "…stupid hippy bitch along. He must have meant Wendy."

Kenny snickered. "So I guess we just have to wait and see what he's up to." He slid his brown gloves into his pockets, heading up the stairs and leaning against the door.

"Good evening." Ike waved at them from the street, smiling. "Cartman sent you guys here to meet me. He's planning on asking Kyle to live with him once he gets back, so we're moving all my brother's stuff into the master bedroom in Cartman's house." He instructed as he walked up to the three expectant teenagers.

Stan looked shocked. "How does he knew Kyle's going to accept?" he stammered.

"Do you think Cartman takes no for an answer?" Kenny muttered. "He broke my neck for touching the kid."

Henrietta scowled. "I'm not moving his stupid things just because I agreed to cover for him. You jock twits are his friends, you move his shit." She growled.

"He thought you might say that. There's another fifty and a carton of cigarettes in it for you if you help." Ike said, folding his hands behind his back.

"Well what about me?" Kenny demanded, adding his glare to the one Henrietta was giving the ten year old child.

"He said you owe him for feeling up Kyle. He also said Stan was enough of a pussy that I wouldn't have to prod him much into helping." Ike mentioned.

"Fuck." Kenny muttered under his breath as Stan turned questioning eyes on him.

"Fine…we better get started then. The stink of Calvin Klein is starting to get to me." Henrietta sneered, stubbing out her cigarette on Cartman's front door.


	31. Let's Go To Bennigan's!

Alcorion – Dude, I've seen documentaries about these sort of camps. Watch 'Jesus Camp' if you never want to get within 300 miles of a church ever again. Those poor brainwashed kids…I don't mind if you choose to be Christian when you're intelligent enough to understand it, but to shove a bunch of very young impressionable kids into a small area and force them to learn about Jesus…ugh.

Lovingly Insane- Thank you very much! It's going to end soon though, I keep having this nagging feeling like I'm rambling. ~hug~ I'm going to devote a lot more time to my Butters/ Curly Goth fic next, but I'm planning a continuation of this one…might do an Avatar or Invader Zim fic first though. I need a break from watching so much South Park.

SPFE – Kyman for the win indeed!

Angiie Autopsy – Honey, I'm in college too. I totally understand if someone loses internet for 3 months because of lack of funds or work piles up. Besides, reviews are a privilege! Oh, and that quote is courtesy of my goth friend, whom I've quoted both in this story and in Grounded by Fear.

Lots of reviews this time! Thank you so much guys!

________

Kyle smiled and pulled the covers over his shoulder and the bulky cast, stretching out like a cat in his meager bed. Everything was right with the world. He was so awake, so alive. He arched his back and ran his fingers down his stomach. The welts were grinding into the covers and making him bite back moans.

Damn this whole philosophy of curing this…this feeling. Who wouldn't want this? This complete and total addiction to another person? Cartman filled his head, his heart, his body. He scraped fingernails on the inside of his hips, sighing heavily. "God damn it." He breathed, shutting his green eyes. "I love you Cartman." It was carved on his heart by now…he wriggled his toes in his cast. It didn't hurt anymore, though he couldn't wait to get it off. It was just a cumbersome obstacle. His mother had said something in the car about getting it off soon. Perhaps she was waiting until the Parents' Meet tomorrow to take him to the doctor? That must have been it.

Butters snored gently on the other side of the room, completely oblivious to his roommate frantically kindling the electricity Cartman had left in his body with his fingertips. It was like being high, not that Kyle had ever experienced pot despite ample opportunities given to him by Kenny.

It took hours for Kyle to fall asleep, pale morning light hitting his amber hair as his eyes closed and he let consciousness slip away.

___________

Cartman tapped his foot in the early morning light outside of the cabin. At five in the morning, no one was bound to be up. Butters ran up to him, tearing the saran wrap off his face frantically like a heroine in a horror film. He gasped for air, blond hair askew, eyes wide, leaning his hands on his knees as he panted for sweet, lovely oxygen to fill his poor lungs. Cartman's gaze at him wasn't one of pity. In fact, the older boy looked as if he couldn't give a shit that Butters had simultaneously almost suffocated and died from botulistic bacteria.

"Did you break all of them and collect the sample like I showed you?" Cartman demanded. "The parents are arriving in four hours…that barely gives the water time to evaporate and us to get out of here before this biological bomb hits. It's too cold now for any bacteria to be in the air, but I'd watch what you touch."

Butters nodded, panting. "W-whatcha…mean…Eric? We…gotta get everyone to…leave?" he asked in between gasping for breath, sweat plastered around his hair where the plastic wrap had let no heat escape. Cartman nodded.

"Only you, me, and Kyle, however. Everyone else will either die, or the recovery will be around eight months. Psychological recovery…two months." Cartman said emotionlessly. Butters knew that tone. Cartman had already detached himself from caring about anyone, his emotions locked away deep inside of him and not about to be brought out until his goals were realized. "Kahl stands at more of a risk because he's Jewish and his body is recovering from a broken leg. I'm only taking you because you're an anorexic fucktard who would die if I didn't." he added, lifting his lip up in a sneer.

Butters frowned. "I may be thin Eric but I ain't anorexic." He protested. Cartman grabbed Butters by his upper arm.

"Get Kahl and meet me outside the camp. Don't you dare nark on me, Butters, or I will drive you to the middle of Denver in a miniskirt and let some rapists I met in prison pass you around like a dollar whore." He hissed in the other boy's face. "Then you'd have to explain your ripped open rectum to your father."

"O-okay! I ain't going to tell no-one!" Butters said, struggling to get away from those cold brown eyes. Cartman shoved him toward the cabins.

"Go get Kahl. Make sure he doesn't bring any clothes with him. We can't take the risk of contaminant." he growled. "I know his Jew instincts will tell him to rob everyone else, but you must stop him." He felt his phone buzz in his pocket and angrily pulled it out, reading something on the screen and shoving it back in. "Yes…this will be bigger than Columbine, Butters. You will see. These fucking hippies get what's coming to them, Kahl's mom will be in the hospital, and Kahl will have to move in with me…yes." He grinned as Butters ran in the direction of the cabins.

_________

"I think that's the last of it." Stan put the box down in the master bedroom of the Cartman house. Oddly, neither Leanne nor Cartman had used this room…it was completely bare and smelled like dust. There was a brand new bed in the middle though, a nicely made mahogany frame. Another note was hurriedly taped on it.

"This is a receipt for a mattress left by the delivery guys…what the fuck." Kenny frowned as he leaned over to read it. Stan sighed as Henrietta set Kyle's laptop down on one of the closed boxes. All in all, they'd moved over twenty boxes of Kyle's things over to Cartman's house. Clothes, old toys, books, and games mostly. Ike came in bearing the last box of Kyle's clothes and looked at the bed frame. "What the hell is sleeping in that thing, a bear?" Ike commented on the size.

"I think he rented it from the Playboy mansion or something. That thing could fit three people." Kenny folded his arms. "Though Cartman totally counts as two so I guess that works out."

"Alright if you stupid jocks are done ogling the pervert's bed then I'm going to take off. Where the hell are my cigarettes, you little twerp?" Henrietta rounded on Ike, who presented a carton of Djarum Black clove cigarettes from the last box he carried in. She snatched them and opened the box, pleased to find more money as well as ten cigarette packs neatly lined up. She left without saying a word, tucking the box protectively under her arm. Ike followed her with a nod at the other two.

Stan stuck his hands in his pockets, looking at the room. "Kenny, do you ever feel like Kyle is getting married sometimes? I mean, he's moving on with a new phase in his life. We're not going to be up at four in the morning calling each other over stupid shit our parents do…we're not going to sleep over at each others' houses. I feel like I'm never going to see him again, Ken." He said somberly, kicking the dusty carpet.

Kenny smirked and put a hand on Stan's shoulder. "Hey. You can still call him at the early hours, still drag him over to your house for your faggy sleepovers…no one's stopping you. Trust me, Cartman would understand. If not, just do it behind his back." He said with a smile. Stan looked back at the other boy.

"Thanks Ken." He said.

"Your welcome, Barbie. I told you not to call me Ken." Kenny said, turning to head out into the hallway. Stan followed with a smile on his face. Perhaps this wouldn't be so bad after all. Cartman would have to let him and Kyle continue to do what they'd always done…he'd had a sleepover with Kyle at least once a month for thirteen years.

_______________

Kyle opened his eyes to someone dropping a heavy bag on his stomach. He coughed and sat up. "What the hell?!" he demanded, shoving the heavy thing away from him.

"We gotta go Kyle!" Butters hissed at him. "I got your things all packed up. Cartman says you can't have them cause of the bacteria but I don't think they're contaminated or nothin'."

Kyle sleepily ran his hand down his face, looking around the room. Even his copy of the Torah had been shoved into his backpack. "Butters what the hell." He frowned, laying back down. He didn't want to move, especially waking up mere hours after he'd had sex. Butters grabbed his shoulder with an unusually panicked grip and shook him violently.

"We gotta go! The sun's comin' up and it's gonna make everyone sick!" he squeaked.

Kyle groaned and sat up, grabbing his backpack and jamming his hat on his head. Cartman. He should have known that his lover had something up his sleeve. "Jesus Christ." He growled as he swung it onto his back, following Butters' frantic little footsteps out into the darkened hallway. "Did you by any chance get me some coffee while Cartman was making you do his dirty work?" Kyle mumbled sleepily.

Butters padded back to him and grabbed his wrist, yanking him out of the building as fast as he could tug the sleepy Jew along. His cast felt ten times heavier half-asleep and made a loud noise on the cheery little stone pathway leading out of the camp. Sure enough, Cartman was there with dark circles under his eyes, hair mussed up and a strikingly emotionless mask on his face. "Cartman…why did you drag me out here? What time is it?" Kyle pulled out his phone only to remember the battery pack he'd let his mother have.

Cartman took out his own phone. "Five thirty-seven, Kahl. Come on. We have to leave." He said sharply. "What the hell is that on your back? Butters I thought I told you to keep him from robbing people!"

"Aw geez Eric I couldn't drag him out here without his stuff. I'd feel guilty." Butters visibly cringed and Kyle glared at Cartman.

"Quit picking on Butters, you fat asshole." He growled. "What's this all about?"

"I came to ask you a very important question." Cartman began heavily.

"It better be fucking important. Butters was talking about some sort of virus or something you put in the camp." The Jew said, his brain slowly waking up and filling with anger at Cartman slipping behind his back to enact another dangerous scheme. That fucking fat racist always had to kill something or make someone miserable so he could be happy. Sometimes it was hard for Kyle to believe he loved someone as sociopathic as Eric Theodore Cartman. "Are you trying to kill everyone?"

"No Kahl. They're just going to be sick enough to not notice you and Butters have slipped away." Cartman said. "I promised you I wouldn't kill anyone. The vial around your neck. Check it."

Kyle frowned and pulled the vial from around his neck. "That was my promise to you. There's no poison missing, no one will die today. At least no one with a strong immune system." Cartman said softly.

"Then tell me why you brought me out here? Other than keeping me and Butters from getting sick." Kyle said, slipping the vial back in his shirt against his chest. He was lucky he had forgone sleeping naked in case anyone had seen the bruises around his hips and rear from Cartman's violent lovemaking.

"Kahl…you know I love you." Cartman said. "And I know you're a ginger, but I feel my soul has a connection to yours…if you have one. It's hard to tell because you're not a full-blooded ginger."

Kyle frowned.

"I can't let that slip away, Kyle. Everyone I know abandons me at some point. My mother, the father I never knew, Butters." Cartman put his hands behind his back, looking at the ground dramatically.

"Hey!" Butters protested. "I ain't abandoned you, Eric."

"So I don't want you to leave. I want you to stay with me forever." Cartman said softly, ignoring Butters. He stepped forward and took Kyle's hands in his. "You're my Jew, no one else's. I wouldn't have it any other way. So…will you forsake your Jew nest and come live with me?"

Kyle blinked, struggling to process what Cartman had just said. "What?"

"Will you live with me forever, Jew?" Cartman repeated, looking at him intensely. The mask had dropped and Cartman seemed to be desperately searching in his eyes for approval.

They said that you could never truly know someone until you lived with them. But did he really want to live with Cartman? All the lies, the scheming, the amount of poisons and historical regalia in his house? Everything he found deeply offensive, and he was just going to throw himself into the midst of it…leaving his family behind? Leaving Ike to fend for himself?

He bit his lip and his eyes met Cartman's. "Of course." He said, his heart heavy with both joy and the irrepressible instinct that told him he didn't know what he had gotten himself into. Cartman pulled him into an embrace and checked his phone.

"We have an hour and forty minutes before the camp wakes up, an hour before the temperature in the mixture reaches evaporation point. Who wants breakfast?" Cartman looked at his two companions, happily kissing Kyle's cheek.

"Oh! Can we go to Bennigan's?!" Butters asked in excitement, tapping his knuckles together.

Kyle suppressed a laugh and nuzzled into Cartman's shoulder. "We should celebrate anyway." He said sleepily. "As long as Bennigan's has coffee."

_________

Ike watched his mother and father pull out of the driveway, sighing and pulling out his cell phone. He already had 911 typed in…Cartman just needed to call him once on the home phone and everything would be in place. His parents would be out for a few weeks sick, Kyle would be happily living with the fat Nazi, and Ike would get to convert the basement into a hockey watching room. Especially with the fat payout Cartman had left him.

The house phone rang and Ike checked the time. Eight in the morning. The kids would be getting up and the parents arriving, breathing in a dangerous bacterium as they were lining up to get breakfast with their children. The symptoms would react instantly in some kids and parents, it would take hours for the rest of them to start exhibiting symptoms.

Ike pressed the call button and lifted the cell phone to his cheek. "Nine-one-one? I need a few ambulances to this address. You better make it quick…a lot of kids are about to get really, really fucking ill."


	32. Chewing Bricks

Lovingly Insane – lol, thank you! Butters is pretty badass in a naive, 'I don't know what the fuck I'm doing' sort of way.

Anonymous – Yes, bad Cartman! Go in the corner! ~threatens him with newspaper~

Alcorion – I don't think so either, given how jealous and possessive he is. But then again do you really think he's going to let Cartman get in the way of their super best friends thing?

Yes, the story is wrapping up children. I love you all! If you loved the Hitler bits please go see Felled by a Child, which is a Downfall fic I'm currently planning out in my head. I will continue Grounded by Fear, but chances are it's going to be shorter than this one. Love to all the Kycart/Kyman fans!

Rig

* * *

Cartman sipped his beer and appraised the large order of food he'd placed while Butters dug into a burger that looked bigger than his entire head. Kyle drank coffee and ate some mashed potatoes. He figured it was the closest thing to hash browns he could get at a place like Bennigan's this early in the morning.

"How can you guys eat that much at seven thirty in the morning?" Kyle demanded, stirring his coffee with a spoon. "And you're not even twenty one, Cartman!" he added in a hiss.

"Quiet, Jew. A fake ID goes a long way, and paddies don't give a shit about you being underage." Cartman said casually, shutting up when a plate of baby-back ribs, fries, buffalo wings, and shrimp was set in front of him. The server also plunked down a full pitcher of beer.

"Half the people here aren't even Irish. Don't eat pork in front of me, asshole!" Kyle snarled as Cartman started in on the ribs. "And it's not even eight in the morning! You're drinking, eating shitload of food and you have to drive us back to the camp. I need to warn my mom about what you're up to.

Cartman held up a sauce-slathered finger and swallowed. "You're not ratting me out, Jew. She's going to be fine." He said, turning back to sucking meat off the bone. Kyle looked from Butters happily smacking on his burger to Cartman's feast and rolled his eyes, stirring his mashed potatoes around on his plate.

"You two are disgusting." He muttered, taking a rather dainty bite. Butters slurped down a stray slice of bacon and blushed.

"I ain't eaten in two days Kyle. M-my dad says I don't get to eat in the house no more because I make stupid faces at the table." Butters said, looking embarrassed at wolfing down such a large meal. Kyle sighed.

"Sorry, Butters." He reached across the table and put his hand on Butters'. "Eat all you want. Make sure to take some from the fat tub of lard over there." He shot an angry look at Cartman.

"Touch my food…mph…and I'll phucking bash your peeth in." Cartman said around a wad of buffalo wing and pork. Butters looked sufficiently cowed even by the comical sight of Cartman's cheeks completely full. Even Kyle suppressed a smile and ate another bite of his mashed potatoes.

The meal went quickly, despite the huge amount of food Cartman had ordered. Kyle began to marvel as the plates emptied one by one, Cartman's maw devouring everything except the garnishes. As a second thought, he ate those as well, settling back and licking sauce off his fingers. Kyle watched his tongue curl around each of the digits, lapping the barbeque sauce of delicately. Eric then looked at his spitty fingers then wiped them off on Butters' jacket.

"Aww Eric this is my good hoodie!" Butters grabbed a napkin and wiped the spit stains off. "That's unsanitary!"

"Cry me a river, faggot." Eric picked his teeth with a tooth pick while Butters took a few of the wet naps off the table and began cleaning his own hands. He hummed quietly while he removed the last bits of bacon grease and hamburger crumbs from his slender fingers. Kyle bit his lip and smiled into his plate when he saw the incredulous look Eric was giving Butters.

"Butters…do you still wear diapers?" Eric asked coldly.

"Eric you know that's a silly question. I don't." Butters said, cheerfully folding the soiled napkin up.

"Then why the fuck are you using the fucking wet naps?!" Eric growled, nodding to his own plate stacked with dirty paper napkins. "You either lick it off your fingers or you use napkins like a man. Jesus Christ even Kahl is using napkins and he's a Jew!"

"What the heck does that have to do with me using paper napkins, Cartman?" Kyle demanded as he wiped his mouth. Cartman held up a hand for silence.

"Okay come on." He said. "Quietly."

"E-Eric we haven't paid." Butters said nervously.

"Butters shut up and come on." Eric whispered. Kyle ran his hand down his face as he followed Cartman out, Butters nervously digging in his pockets for change and putting it on the table.

"Hey, you kids!"

"Run, dammit!" Cartman growled, grabbing Kyle's wrist and tearing out of the restaurant as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Oh Jesus!" Butters yelped as he ran after the two. Cartman leapt into the driver's seat of his car and slammed the door shut, barely giving Kyle and Butters time to get in before his foot was on the gas pedal.

"Eat that you fucking micks!" Cartman roared, flipping the angry waitress off in the review mirror.

"Christ Cartman how many racial slurs do you have in your vocabulary…they weren't even Irish! That was just an Irish pub…there's a difference!" Kyle growled as Cartman tore out onto the road.

"Shut it, heeb." Cartman said cheerfully.

"Aw Jesus we're gonna get chased by the police!" Butters was panicking in the backseat, fiddling with his hands and his aqua eyes wide. "I can't go to jail! My dad said if I ever went to jail he'd let everyone know I have a nice butt!"

"Butters everyone has dine-and-dashed once in their fucking life. Give me a break. Besides, it's…" Cartman looked at the dashboard clock. "…ten AM. We have to get back to South Park before they find Butters' fingerprints."

"What?!" Butters yelped. "Oh God! Oh Jesus we're going to jail! We've killed people! Oh my God!"

"Kahl, would you hold the wheel for a second?" Cartman released control of the car and Kyle dove for the wheel as the car yanked them to the left.

"Cartman you fucking asshole leave Butters alone!" Kyle yelped as they swung back and forth, eventually getting shakily straight in the right lane. Cartman was twisted around, listening to Butters ramble on and on about prison. Then he cocked back a hand, waited a few precious seconds, then slapped Butters so hard his head turned. Cartman gave Butters a cold look as the sniveling blond stared at him in shock, then quietly turned around and took the wheel from Kyle.

"Nice driving Jew." Cartman smirked at his lover.

"Don't ever fucking do that again you fat fuck!" Kyle yelled in his ear.

Cartman winced. "Don't yell at me. You handled it fine. And I was joking…if Butters wore the gloves then he won't get caught poisoning everyone. Besides by the time the ambulances transport everyone to Hell's Pass we have an alibi. We were hanging out at my house." He said.

Kyle sighed and settled back in his chair. This was going to be a very long car ride. He looked back at Butters, who was wiping away tears from the hard slap Cartman had given him. "Christ Cartman…" Kyle muttered, undoing his seatbelt and climbing back to hug Butters. "It's ok." He put his arm around Butters' shoulders and rubbed his back. "You're going to be fine. You can hang out with us and we'll tell your parents Cartman kidnapped you, okay?"

Butters nodded tearfully.

This was going to be a very long car ride.

___________

Stan looked up from his seat on the steps of the Cartman house as the explorer skidded to a stop in the driveway. He saw Kyle get out with a sigh, his cast landing on the pavement with a sound like brick against stone. "Hey dude." Stan greeted him, watching Butters get out and run for his house.

"I gotta make sure they're ok!" he shouted back as he ran down the street. Even Cartman gave the skinny blonde's retreating back an odd look.

"What are you still doing here, Marsh?" Cartman asked.

Stan stood up, sliding his hands in his pockets. "I just wanted to make sure you guys got back okay." He said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Wait a minute, still?" Kyle asked Cartman, giving him a suspicious look. Cartman shrugged. Kyle glared at him. "Cartman."

"Go look inside, Jew. Room at the end of the upstairs hallway." Cartman nodded at his house and Kyle suspiciously limped into the foyer, heading up the stairs slowly. When the thunks died away there was silence for a moment. Cartman tapped his foot, listening to sirens in the distance.

"Any minute now." He said softly, a smirk spreading across his face. He looked up when the master bedroom window opened and Kyle stuck his head out.

"_CARTMAN! Why the fuck is all my stuff in here?!" _

"Housewarming gift! Be grateful I didn't find your Jew gold you fucking heeb!" Cartman cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted back. Kyle's face turned red and he glared, pulling his head back in and slamming the window shut.

"Is everyone at the camp alright? I know Ken was worried about it." Stan said, looking down at the snow.

Cartman shrugged again, looking at the street when four ambulances tore past, screaming their sirens. "Yep. Everyone's fine." He said, scratching the back of his neck. Stan stared after the ambulances, then back at Cartman.

"I'm going to check up on Kyle's parents…tell him I'll be at the hospital, alright?" Stan said quietly. "I'll call him from the hospital so he knows his parents are okay."

"You do that." Cartman said, nodding goodbye to the other boy as he walked up to his front door. Now to deal with Kyle.

_______________

"You have no idea how mad I am at you right now, Cartman." Kyle growled as he looked out the window of Cartman's car. The driver rolled his eyes behind their lids and opened them to refocus on the road. "You had no right to just move my stuff in before you even asked me to move in with you! Did you just assume I'd say yes? I mean, what if I refused?" Kyle demanded.

"I don't take no for an answer, Jew." Cartman said stiffly. He was driving them to the hospital so Kyle could talk to his mother. Not that he wanted to, but he had a feeling had he refused Kyle would have simply attempted to move himself out and gone to the hospital himself.

"Well I'm saying no."

Cartman could have sworn his Jew was pouting. "You already accepted Kahl." He smirked. "Besides, I knew you would. You love me too much."

Kyle sighed. "I hate you sometimes."


	33. The Knife Removed

Lovingly Insane – Lol yep! Cartman's a sneaky fucker

Angiie Autopsy – Kyle's a sweetie sometimes! Thank you for reading it, I'm surprised I had so many faithful readers in such a short amount of time.

Alright, well this is the last chapter. I thought it perfectly fitting to end on Valentine's Day. I hope you had as much fun reading this as I did writing it! You've been a wonderful audience. Your performance was impeccable and a joy to watch and to read. Love you all,

Rig.

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Kyle ran to his mother's hospital bed, grasping her hand and kneeling. "I'm so sorry Mom, I didn't know…I'm sorry for running from the camp." He said softly to her pale face. She sighed deeply, gripping his hand and looking away from Kyle. "Please, I didn't know." Kyle begged as Cartman stood in the doorway, looking coldly at the woman and the sleeping man he had poisoned.

"Do you still feel the same about him?" Mrs. Broflovski asked quietly, stroking a shaking finger over Kyle's hand.

Kyle sighed and looked down, closing his eyes. "I do." He said just as quietly, biting his lip. "I love Eric Cartman more than anything, despite all the things he's done. Despite who he is. I still love him, Mom. All I ask is for your blessing."

Mrs. Broflovski breathed in deeply. "Your father and I were talking." She said. "And…as long as you're happy…" She turned her head to look at him and raised a hand to pat his cheek. "I love you, Bubbe, and I want you to be happy. I just wish you would have chosen someone else…"

"You can't always choose who you're in love with, mother." Kyle said. "I don't know how it happened. It just did." He opened his eyes when he heard Cartman coming up behind him. Moses, he hoped that his lover would know to keep his mouth shut.

"Mrs. Broflovski." Cartman said stiffly, obviously uncomfortable with the situation at hand. "I do love the Je- Kyle. If he wants your blessing, I won't let him move into my house with me without it. My mother's gone. She packed up and left without me."

Kyle saw his mother's eyes darken. "Move in with you? Bubbe…" she looked at him. "When I told you to leave I didn't mean it. I was angry."

"I know Mom. But now that I've had time to think about it I think it's the right thing to do. I'll be eighteen soon, and you know how Dad is always talking about me learning personal responsibility. I want to go to college soon, and it's only five minutes away." Kyle said pleadingly. "I won't go without our say, but…please. I want to do this."

His mother nodded. "I know, Kyle. You and Eric have my blessing. But I want you to know that if he ever hurts you, I'll kill him." She gave a meaningful look at Cartman, who thankfully didn't respond. Kyle knew the threat would just roll off of Cartman's shoulders like rainwater. Cartman had no fear of anyone that Kyle knew.

"I love you Mom. Get some rest. I'll come see you tomorrow..." Kyle said, kissing her hand. She forced a smile.

"I love you too Bubbe. I don't think I'm going to get used to the idea of you being…with Eric, but knowing you're happy will put me at ease. Just give me time, alright?" Sheila said, sighing and closing her eyes. Cartman put a hand on Kyle's shoulder.

"Come on. We both know Jews have weak constitution." He said, leading Kyle away from her.

"Hold on." Kyle ducked away from Cartman's hand and went to his father's bed, kissing his forehead goodnight before he returned to Cartman's side. He slid his hand around the large boy's waist and leant his head against Cartman's. Everything was fine. His mother forgave him. She forgave him. He could scarcely believe it. He hid a smile against the Nazi's shoulder.

Stan would call him soon and their friendship would be repaired. He was living with a man he loved, and life could resume normality. "You know, we missed my appointment to get my cast off." He whispered as they left the hospital. Cartman grinned evilly. "Oh, I have a solution for that." He purred back.

________________

"This is crazy!" Kyle gulped as Cartman slid on the welding facemask. He sat on the couch, leg out straight on the coffee table, pants removed and his dignity covered only by a blanket. His heart was beating a mile a minute when he saw Cartman pick up the rotary saw.

"Cartman please! I'll wait! Please Eric!" he begged, his breathing starting to match his feverish heartbeats.

"Shut the hell up Jew. This is going to be noisy." Cartman said, grinning behind the mask as he switched the blade on. Kyle saw it become a deep gray blur, gently alighting on his cast with a burst of white plaster. Tears ran down his cheeks when he felt the blade slice nearer to his skin, closer and closer…but the pain never came.

Cartman moved the saw in gentle, short motions up his knee, then along the top and bottom of his foot. The noise rang in Kyle's eardrums and the amount of dust accumulating on the coffee table was astounding. The smell of burning plaster, old skin and sweat rose up from the cast, and Cartman switched it off, waiting for the blade to cease and the dust to settle before he laid it aside. "There you go." He said cheerfully, ripping off the welding mask and looking at his work. "I told you I wouldn't hit you."

"God damn it Cartman." Kyle leaned back, sobbing in relief as Cartman gently slid part of the cast from his calf, then moved to his foot.

"This is going to be like taking off a very weird shoe, Jew." Cartman cautioned, then tugged and finally slid it off. Cool air hit Kyle's tortured skin and he sighed in relief, looking at the stained white sock that covered his foot. Cartman distastefully tugged it off and threw it away, setting the thick plaster pieces aside. "Alright Jew. Stand up." Cartman said impatiently.

Kyle withdrew his foot from the table and set it on the ground, smiling at the feeling of carpet under his feet. He stood finally on both legs, wiping the tears of joy out of his eyes. "God Cartman…you really did it." He said, wiggling his toes. He walked forward experimentally, then ran around the table to Cartman and hugged him tightly, their lips meeting and melding together. "I love you." Kyle mumbled against Cartman's lips, clinging to him tightly.

"I'll clean this shit up if you vacuum." Cartman smirked, patting Kyle's cheek. Kyle could do nothing more than laugh and walk to the closet, enjoying the feeling of walking without the weight on his foot. Moses, had it really been months since the incident? He took out the vacuum, watching Cartman stack up the plaster pieces and irritably head outside to shove them into the trash. This was their home now. He loved the way that felt.

"Our house. This is our house." Kyle whispered, leaning on the vacuum. The kitchen where he had discovered Cartman's drinking. Where they had made dirty, kinky love together while cooking. The living room Kyle had slept in, the meal with Kenny…this adventure was over, but another one was beginning.

Kyle left the vacuum where it sat, running into the kitchen to hug Cartman again and kiss him. "The cleaning can wait." Kyle said, kissing Cartman again and again. "Meet you upstairs." He gave Cartman a sultry look, letting his tongue flick across his lips. He saw the fire begin in Cartman's eyes and ran before the other had a chance to hold him close.

"Come here you little bitch!" Cartman growled playfully, chasing Kyle up the stairs and to the large bedroom at the end of the hall. Kyle was shocked to see a mattress and sheets waiting, skidding to a stop.

"Cartman what in the-"

Eric tackled him from behind, sending them both flying onto the soft, luxurious mattress. Kyle felt silk beneath his cheek. "God damn, you know better than to tease me like that, you fucking sexy ginger." Cartman flipped Kyle onto his back and kissed him, feeling Kyle's arms and legs wrap around him.

Kyle pulled Cartman's shirt up frantically and used his toes to push Cartman's pants down, hooking them around the waistband of Cartman's underwear and yanking the piece of cloth down with his pants. Cartman looked vaguely surprised at Kyle's dexterity. "Where the hell did you learn to do that?" Cartman panted as Kyle pulled his own clothes off.

"I just thought of it." Kyle answered back, kissing Cartman's neck and throat. "Wait." Kyle gently put his hands on Cartman's naked shoulders, rubbing the skin.

"What?" Cartman asked, weaving his hand between Kyle's legs and stroking the hardness he felt there. Kyle gasped and leaned into his touches.

"I want to make love to you, Eric." Kyle moaned, kissing Cartman's cheek. Cartman's hand stopped and his eyes went cold. He pulled away from Kyle for a minute, sitting next to him on the bed.

"Jew…I don't let anyone touch me like that." Cartman growled, sighing and leaning onto his elbows.

Kyle slid to sat behind Cartman, kissing his neck. "Please, I want you to trust me, Eric." He whispered. "I know what you had to do in the past and I know they hurt you. But I would never hurt you. Ever. I'll be just as gentle with you. I love you."

Cartman sighed and turned around to study him. "If I feel any pain I want you to stop." He said, glaring at Kyle. "I want to do this slowly. I can't…I can't have it rough the way I used to. It makes my mind go blank. I go to a different place, Kahl. It something you don't understand. My mom told me when she was with johns she just tried to go places. Places where a man loved her and was spending time with her. Caring about her."

Kyle moved back when Cartman sat on the bed Indian-style, closing his eyes. "Just… try to understand that." He said. Kyle moved forward and kissed him.

"I would never, ever hurt you." Kyle said, gently pushing Cartman back and kissing his neck. It was odd, being in the dominant position. Being the supportive one when he could clearly see the fear in Cartman's eyes was frightening, but it made him feel good. It was time for Cartman to trust him. To do something that wasn't so safe.

He gently spread Cartman's legs, the other boy having nervously pointed out where the lube was under the pillow. "It's alright." Kyle purred, letting his lips roam over Cartman's broad stomach. Eric's muscles were so tense, his abdominals clenched tightly until Kyle's lips and tongue quietly made them relax. "Shh." Kyle ran his fingers over Cartman's thick thighs, nuzzling his head between Cartman's legs. "It's time someone made love to you." Kyle whispered, letting his tongue flick behind Cartman's balls, trying to relax his entrance. He kept his hand moving on Cartman's thigh, distracting him.

Kyle spread a generous amount of lube on his fingers and slid his finger inside of his lover. Instantly, Cartman's muscles clamped down on his finger and refused to let him in further. "Cartman relax." Kyle said, licking his lips. After feeling how hot, warm and silky Cartman was on the inside, he couldn't wait to be inside of him. But Cartman was guarded heavier than the White House. This would take time.

He slid his finger in and out, coaxing Cartman loose, raining kisses on his hips. It was good…Cartman was hard, his breathing quick. His body was relaxing and letting Kyle in.

It must have taken two hours before Kyle gently took three fingers out of Cartman and stroked his cock with a palm full of lube. He put Cartman's legs on his shoulders slowly, kissing one of the thick calves. "I love you." Kyle whispered as he sank, centimeter by aching centimeter, inside his lover. Cartman clenched around him, trapping him in that hot, wet centre. He thought he might burst then and there, his breaths hardly seeming adequate.

Cartman growled in pain, despite the lubrication the familiar sting was still there. It wasn't as hurtful as usual…the jew-rat had done a shockingly good job of spreading him open. Cartman disliked being on his back…every emotion and expression that flickered across his face visible to the blushing boy looming over him. His legs were shaking with arousal, wanting to run away from Kyle and give into him at the same time.

"I'll stay here as long as I need to." Kyle settled down on top of Cartman, kissing his lover's lips. Cartman kissed him back, sighing and entwining his fingers in Kyle's hair. He was glad a tiny bit of alcohol from their time at Bennigan's was still in his system. No wonder they called it liquid courage. Cartman settled back and grabbed wads of the sheets in his fingers, ready for the agony.

"Go ahead." Cartman said stiffly.

He was surprised to hear Kyle muffle a giggle and move achingly slow inside of him. The pain that he had been expecting never came. Instead a warm rush enveloped every part of his body, washing over him. He moaned, lifting his hips and finding the strength to fight his conditioning. Every part of his mind knew he was being entered and wanted to slip back into that mindless, blank void of passionless moaning and false orgasms he gave everyone else.

"Kyle…" he whispered, arching his back as Kyle's hips met his and drew back achingly. "…God…" he leaned his head back and shut his eyes.

"This is how you make me feel when you make love to me." Kyle whispered, inches from his face, thrusting into that tight warmth. Cartman was like molten steel on the inside, clenching around him and pulling him deeper. "You make me burn…" Kyle growled, grabbing Cartman's hips and giving in to the urge he felt to fuck.

"Harder!" Cartman demanded roughly. Kyle's fingers grasped his and forced his arms above his head, the Jew's hips slapping against him. Cartman felt his breath accelerate and his heart pick up along with it. He felt so close already. The minutes stretched out and Cartman found himself struggling against the hands that pinned his arms above his head.

He needed to hold Kyle, to clutch him and beg him for more. "Fuck me!" Cartman begged, forcing his eyes open to watch the two blazing emeralds that looked back at him. Kyle shoved up against him, gasping. God it felt good to restrain Cartman and force him to take his cock, but it was coming to an end too soon.

He saw Cartman gasp and twitch, clench around him and white spurt from the tip of his cock. Kyle thrust deeply into the impossibly tight entrance and let himself go, his hips bucking out of rhythm and a cry falling like worship from his lips.

They lay together on the bed, Kyle clutching Cartman close to his body. "I love you so much." Kyle whispered, his lips finding Cartman's for the millionth time that day. Kyle pulled out slowly, the drag of tight, wet skin slick with cum making him gasp. "Moses…" he swore under his breath, flopping on his back and attempting to steal his breath back. "Damn."

Cartman laid on his side, smiling and resting his cheek on Kyle's chest. "I've been fucked a lot of times, but never made love to." He said softly. Kyle smirked and kissed Cartman's cheek.

"I love you too." He said. "I don't have to worry about any surprises from your clients now, do I?"

"I've already given you AIDS once, Jew." Cartman said dismissively. "You're going to be sleeping in this bed for the rest of your life, you know that?"

Kyle smiled and nuzzled against Cartman. "I think I can stand that."

__________________

"I do have a request." Kyle said, coming out of the master bathroom with a towel hung low around his hips. Cartman seemed content to lay in the afterglow of sex and looked up when Kyle came out, licking his lips.

"God damn baby take off that towel and I'll give you anything you want." He growled, sitting up.

"We put all the Nazi stuff into storage…or at least somewhere I don't have to look at it…I mean…this is my house now, too, right?" Kyle said, ruffling his wet amber curls with one hand. Cartman's face darkened.

"I'll help you move everything down into your lab." Kyle offered. Cartman held up a finger and stood up, wrapping a blanket around his hips.

"Kahl." Cartman growled, approaching the Jew. "You know I love your skinny white ass, but if you try and remove the Fuhrer from this home I will have no choice but to bury you so damn deep you'll taste the circle of hell reserved for Jesus-killers. Got it?"

Kyle sighed and put his damp arms around his lover's neck. "Cartman…it's offensive. It's not that I'm trying to completely remove it from your life, but the thought of what my people had to go through…it hurts, Cartman. It physically hurts. It's like if…I let 50 Cent come in here and redecorate your house for Black History Month." Kyle wasn't shocked to feel a physical shudder under his arms.

"God damn it." Cartman muttered under his breath. "Fine. Some! Some god damn it. But you're not burning the uniform my mom made me."

Kyle blinked and tilted his head. "What uniform?" Kyle asked with a frown on his face. Cartman kissed him.

"Get dressed. I brought your clothes over but they're not unpacked. I'll meet you downstairs." Cartman said.

________________

Cartman stood downstairs in his uniform, the pitch black suit his mother had made him nearly a year ago. Right before she left. He knew Kyle would be furious to see him like this, but he felt he had to do right by his mother. He had to let her know that he loved her, even if it meant making the dumbest decision of his life standing her in a token of her love. He stood straight, withdrawing a small black box from the pocket.

He checked the plain white gold ring and sat down heavily on the couch. Maybe this wasn't the right time. What if Kyle said no? That thought send a brick of reality plunging into his stomach. God, if Kyle said no…

Cartman shook the thought out of his head and stood up when he heard the long-suffering staircase creak to announce Kyle's entrance. Kyle came down in a pair of jeans that hung low on his pale hips, a plain burnt orange t-shirt hugging his frame, and his hat on his head. He took one look at Cartman and winced. "Cartman…" he started, rubbing his neck. Why the hell did the other boy seem so nervous?

"I don't think it's a good idea to be wearing that." Kyle finished as Cartman approached him, something clenched in his hand.

"What's that?" Kyle asked, nodding to the box.

Cartman knelt down, taking one of Kyle's hands in his. "I love you, Jew, and when I said I wanted you to be with me forever I meant it. This isn't any fucking engagement or anything because we're like…barely eighteen." He said, looking up at Kyle. "But this is a promise." He swore inwardly when he felt his arms thrust the box awkwardly at Kyle.

Kyle opened it and smiled, holding it to his chest. "Eric…" he said softly when the other boy stood and enveloped him in a hug. "I want you to know that I would marry you tomorrow, any day, any time." He said.

"I know you would, Jew." Cartman said, and leaned his head down to press his lips to the boy he'd fallen hopelessly, helplessly in love with. The knife his mother had buried so deeply in his spine had been removed. Kyle bathed his heart clean of the pain.

Kyle had pulled out the knife in his back.


End file.
